


Remnants

by CaraRose



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: And Luke still ran off and vanished, Ben and Luke are the only survivors of the new Jedi, But Ben never turned against Luke, But the First Order still destroyed the academy, Canon Divergence - Alternate Timeline, F/M, Flip script, Takes place over the same time as the events in TFA, These tags are complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-25 10:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12529672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraRose/pseuds/CaraRose
Summary: This is an AU where Ben never turned on Luke, but the academy was still destroyed and Luke still vanished.Six years ago the First Order attacked and destroyed Luke Skywalker's new Jedi order, leaving only Ben Organa and Luke as the survivors of the massacre. His uncle having vanished, Ben now serves as the last remnant of the fallen order as the threat of the First Order continues to grow. Doing his best to aid the Resistance and help stop the rise of the First Order, the weight of legacy heavy on his shoulders, he finds himself torn between light and darkness as he searches for his uncle along with darker answer to the events of the past.Word comes that there's a map that could finally help lead him to his missing uncle, after six years of fruitless searching for clues. For the first time in a long time, he finds hope that he might finally be able to find Luke and bring him home, and finally shed some of the burden that had been left on him in his uncle's absence. Hoping for the best, he heads to meet up with Poe Dameron on the desert planet of Jakku to find this map and keep it from falling into enemy hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really had no intention of starting a _fourth_ work in progress, but this story wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> This isn't really edited much yet and there will likely be ninja edits in the future.

He wasn’t a fan of the Capital City.

It wasn’t the worst place, gods knew it was a hell of a lot better than the hell that was Coruscant, but it was still too busy, too crowded. And don’t let him get started on the den of snakes that was the senate house. Out here on the far edges of the seemingly endless urban expanse, though, it got bearable at least. The area was a little bit run down, a little bit sketchy, but the hotel was cheap and the frantic energy of the center of the city dissipated into a lower drone. And then there was this diner, he liked this diner. It was tiny, just a few booths and a long counter. The caf was good, as were the eggs and hotcakes. And the fried nerf steak with a side of hash might be the best hangover food in existence.

Still, he was glad his business here was coming to an end. The feeling of all these people remained overwhelming. Sitting in a worn booth, turning his cup of caf between his palm, he felt a certain relief that in a week he’d be gone. Maybe it was time to go somewhere by himself for awhile. Some desolate place where it could just be him and the force for awhile.

The bell on the door dinged as someone walked in. He didn’t bother looking up from the cup of caf. He had felt him coming when he was still blocks away.

“Where the hell did you find this place? It’s… quaint.”

A small smile crossed his lips, “My hotel is across the street.”

“That dump?” he looked up to see Poe leaning to look across the street at the shady and ill kept inn.

He shrugged, “It’s a roof and it’s quiet, and it’s cheap. Believe it or not being the last remnant of the new Jedi order doesn’t pay particularly well.” Nodding to the seat across from him, “Take a seat, Commander, the caf is good.” He motioned to the waiter, “Another cup here.”

Poe rolled his eyes but slid in across from him, “How you been, Ben? It’s been awhile. Organa wanted me to tell you to get your ass to D’Qar and visit her sometime more often than never.”

“Let my mother know her request is duly noted,” he picked up his caf and took a sip. “And really, tell her I’m sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“You been on Hosnia the last few months?”

He shook his head, “Just the last few weeks. Looking into something-- about to wrap it up really. Then I might take a few weeks to get my head back together. I’ve been burning out.”

The waiter swung by, dropping a cup in front of Poe and filling it from a carafe. She topped his off too and he gave her a small smile and a polite nod before she walked away. “So what are you so keen on talking to me about that you had to track me down in person?” he asked, taking a sip of his caf.

“Organa got a message from a guy named San Tekka--”

“Lor?” he blinked, setting his cup down.

“You’re familiar with him?” Poe picked up the cup in front of him and took a sip, a surprised look crossing his face, “This _is_ good.”

“Always doubting me,” he mock scolded before nodding, “And Lor San Tekka, he’s a bit of an artifact hunter. Worked closely with Luke on more than one occasion while searching for Jedi artifacts. Wasn’t sure if he was even still alive now, he’ll be getting up in years.”

“He thinks he has a map to Skywalker.”

His entire body stiffened and he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, “A map. To Luke?”

“That’s what the man said,” the man across from him shrugged his shoulders, “I’m going to Jakku to meet him tomorrow, in a village called Tuanul.”

For a few seconds he didn’t know what to say. The last six years of his life had had two main focuses, one of which was the seemingly fruitless search for his uncle since the man vanished. Biting his bottom lip, he leaned forward, voice soft, “Who knows about this?”

“On our side? Just Organa and me, and now you. I figured you’d want to know.”

His eyes drifted to look out the diner windows, “Be careful. If the wrong people get word of this…”

“I know, the First Order wants him dead.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and setting credits on the table, “I need to get going. If I can get things wrapped up here, I’ll try to meet up with you.”

“Always appreciate the last Jedi’s help,” Poe winked.

A sharp flash of irritation hit him, but somehow he managed to keep it out of his voice, “I’m not the last Jedi, Poe, so don’t call me that.”

Poe just raised his hands, “Sorry, just joking around, Ben.”

“I know, I just…” he let his voice trail off. What was there really to say? He sighed, “I’ve got to get going, it was good seeing you, Commander.” He turned and left in a hurry, stuffing his hands into his robe’s pockets as he walked across the street to his hotel room.

It was small and dingy, a lumpy bed, a tiny closet, and a ‘fresher. Rooting through his bag, he pulled two small holoprojectors out, placing the first to project onto the peeling wallpaper. Six years worth of searching, of notes, of clues and hints, were projected in front of him. Everything he’d been able to put together about where Luke may have gone after the First Order wiped out the temple and the academy. Leaving just him and Luke as the last of their friends, last of their Order.

With a few taps, he added additional notes in shorthand to the bottom “San Tekka-- Tuanal. Map?” before shutting it off and replacing it with the second projector.

This was another six years worth of notes, but where his file on Luke was thin, this… this was quite large. Names, lots of names, links, notes.

The First Order may have been the ones who destroyed the academy, but they weren’t the only ones responsible. There had been many acts of betrayal from people within the New Republic that had allowed it to happen. How had the First Order found the location? How could the Republic fighter patrols have missed a star destroyer violating their space?

Because someone had told them. And because someone had turned their back and let it occur.

He pulled up the profile and picture, Viado Marnel, a retired captain in the new Republic army.

Pulling off his robe, he walked to the closet, opening the door and putting the robe on a hanger. A set of all black clothes, padded and armored, hung next to it, raising his eyes to the closet shelf above, his eyes settled on the black mask resting there.

Viado Marnel.

Ben Organa’s work was done now.

Kylo Ren’s night was about to begin.

 

* * *

 

The dreams began further back than he remembered. Dreams of blood and fire and death, of a black masked warrior filled with rage and power. And that warrior was him, somehow, it was him.

As a child the images had terrified him, but the feelings had been enticing. Surge of adrenaline and power and rage. He was a monster, but that being the monster felt good. The monster he was in the dreams was never afraid.

The child he was then was often afraid. Afraid of the his parents voices as they yelled at each other at night, each one threatening to leave. Afraid when his father did ultimately leave for weeks on end after a fight, that he wouldn’t come back this time. Afraid of the whispers he felt in his mind from the strangers at the godsforsaken parties his mother often dragged him to, dark thoughts, so many people hid dark, cruel thoughts and emotions. An end to the fear, that was a power he wanted, the power to no longer feel weak. No longer feel as if he had no control over his own destiny.

And in the dreams a voice would whisper to him, _this is your destiny, you shall serve me and I will make you the master of my knights. Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren._

He disliked the voice, even as it whispered praise. It was a voice that worked into his mind during the day, whispering doubts and insecurities back to him. But the promise, a promise of greatness, that called to him.

_You will be great, all will cower before you._

Yes, it was enticing. Worse yet was the way the images felt more like visions, like he was seeing his future, that this would be, and this was what he would become.

When he was ten the dreams began to become interspersed with a much less clear one. They were strange and unfocused, though far more peaceful than the others. A girl with eyes that seemed familiar, green flecked with brown. Sand and stars and the girl dressed in white. For a time these vague dreams became his respite. But eventually the nightmares began to chase them away. As if they had realized he was escaping their grasp and fighting harder to force them back upon him.

And given what Luke eventually discovered was happening, it very likely was.

He had been thirteen when his mother sent him away. His powers had been growing and his control was non-existent. His emotions, always volatile, would slip into fits of anger things would happen. He was becoming dangerous and his mother struggled to teach him some kind of control. Her powers had never fully awakened in the same way, and though she had learned to tap into the force within her, she was unsure of how to help him regain control.

When she had sent him away he’d been so angry. The voice in his head whispered that he was unloved and unwanted, that he would only find peace by turning his rage into power.

Time had made him understand, time and Luke, and Luke’s help in quieting the voice of the monster that had been trying to twist his mind since before he could remember. His mother had been desperate, because if he hadn’t found control soon something terrible was going to happen as he lashed out without meaning it.

His uncle was an imposing, but ultimately kind man. He hadn’t known him barely at all, and had resented him at first. But with a firm and kind hand he had been guided. And then Luke had discovered that he wasn’t alone in his head.

There was a thread stretching out in the force to him. Not a bond, which was the will of the force, but a thin, weak tether made by something dark and powerful. Some being that had been latched onto him, whispering into his mind across the non-distance of the force, showing him these visions.

“They feel real, they feel like I’m looking into my future,” he admitted after he had let Luke into his mind to see these dreams.

“They are--” Luke had paused, trying to find the words he wanted, “they are a glimpse of a potential future. There is a level of precognition to these, I believe. But the future is not written, child. This was a glimpse of one of a million possibilities of what may be.” He had gripped his shoulder, giving him a smile that would become so familiar over the next ten years, “And I will not let you fall so easily. Whoever, or whatever, is trying to manipulate you, will have me to reckon with now.”

His uncle had helped him block the voice that had whispered to him his whole life. It fought back, but they would fight harder. His uncle guarded his nights at first, when he was the most vulnerable, acting as a wall between him and the darkness until he was strong enough to maintain his own barriers even as he slept.

With the nightmares banished, he found the dreams of the girl returned. He had asked his uncle if they meant anything, but the man had just shrugged, “The force works in strange ways, so perhaps she’s part of your puzzle. Or perhaps a dream is just a dream.”

It hadn’t cured his insecurities or self doubts, but it was less overwhelming without the voice that would feed them. And Luke had been a patient guide as he taught him to both control and tap into his link with the force. His uncle had been a good teacher, one that instilled confidence and trust in his students, one that had been the right one to help him focus and find his footing. He was at Luke’s side as he built his academy, growing the ranks of force-sensitives under his uncle’s tutelage. The older ones became his friends. The younger ones he became a mentor.

And then it all fell apart.

It started when he found out, along with the rest of the galaxy, the truth of his heritage. That his mother and uncle’s father, his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, had also been the monster known as Darth Vader. He’d been furious with Luke over hiding it from him, and his own anger was nothing compared to the vitriol that rose across the galaxy towards his mother, Luke, and to Luke’s new Jedi order.

Amid this chaos and growing anger towards them, the First Order launched it’s assault. The moon the temple was on should have been under Republic protection, but no alarm was ever sounded of the impending attack, no fighters came to their aid as they were slaughtered.

In the aftermath only he and Luke remained.

And Luke, overwhelmed by grief and guilt for his inability to protect his students, had vanished.

He could understand why, though he couldn’t bring himself to forgive him. Not for abandoning him to the chaos with the weight of the galaxy on his back. The lone force user left fighting against the evil that was the First Order. He ran missions for his mother, for the Resistance, choosing to work mainly from the shadows. And he had begun his search for Luke, trying to find any bread crumbs that might lead him to the man.

And besides that, he begun another type of search. A darker type of search.

Revenge wasn’t the Jedi way. But he didn’t consider himself a Jedi anymore. The Jedi died in the fires of the First Order attack. He was something else now, something with armor woven from threads of dark and light. Someone who straddled the grey line between the shadow and the light.

They had known, even before the attack, that Snoke, Supreme Leader of the First Order, was the one who had whispered into his mind and tried to steer him down the path to the dark future he’d shown him.

Perhaps that’s why he had felt the need to model his dark persona after the warrior he’d been shown in his dreams. From the mask to the name, Kylo Ren. A name that would come to haunt the First Order ranks, a merciless demon known for slaughtering entire crews of small battle cruisers, leaving nothing but broken bodies of the dead on a ship adrift in space.

Snoke would know it was him. And that while he had given rise to the darkness, he would never serve him. The darkness existed now to enact revenge for the loss of his friends. Revenge against the First Order.

Through the visor on his mask he viewed the unconscious man bound to the chair in front of him.

Revenge on those who aided them.

The man before him would confess his sins, and be judged.

Sitting in a chair across from the man, he waited for him to wake up.

 

* * *

 

“Viado Marnel,” the name rumbled ominously through the vocoder contained in the helmet. Though he had modeled everything about his avenging persona on what he remembered from the dreams, or visions, that Snoke had given him when he was younger, it amazed him how much it worked for the use he had given the creation. The mask hid his face, the layers of cloth and armor padding and leather made it hard to tell anything even about his build, and the vocoder served to both hide his voice from identification and to hide the emotions that had always crept too easily into his tone.

The man across from him rolled his head groggily, greying hair falling into his face as he pulled in confusion at the restraints holding him to the chair. To Marnel’s benefit, the confusion didn’t last long, the man accepted his situation was what it was, his brown eyes calculating and assessing the room for any information he could gleen.

Retired or not, the man was a soldier.

For a second Marnel’s eyes glanced down to the stool between the two of them, a blaster pistol resting on it, eying it both with wariness and want, testing the restraints again to see if there was any chance of getting free. Finally the man turned his attention to him, looking him over carefully before speaking, “Who are you?”

He tilted his head slightly but didn’t answer.

The lack of response frustrated Marnel, who once again tested the restraints, eyes flicking down to the blaster again before once again staring at his masked face. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to take your confession,” his voice rumbled low out of the vocoder. Marnel’s brow furrowed.

“I have nothing to confess,” the man spoke carefully. “Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“I know exactly who you are. Captain Viado Marnel, retired. At one point in charge of the New Republic patrols of the the Vandor sector.”

“I don’t know what you think I did---”

“Six years ago the First Order attacked a moon within your patrol territory, Captain.” Marnel tensed slightly at this. Behind the mask his lips curled into something that was not quite a grimace and not quite a smile. Oh yes, there was some guilt here. “A moon in the Aradin system.”

The man licked his lips, the only outward sign of the frenetic swirl of anxiety that now surrounded his force signature, “The jedi on Amasis.”

He tilted his head, watching the man carefully.

“That was… an unfortunate... incident.” Marnel bowed his head, feigning a regret that did not exist in the energy of his signature. “We did all we could, but by the time we found out it was too late.”

“A star destroyer entered the territory you were entrusted to protect. It broke from hyperspace and was able to enter the system and approach Amasis, somehow without your people noticing and sending an alarm to the inhabitants that you were entrusted to protect.” He once again tilted his head, the man’s energy was growing wilder, with more panic. “They then were able to launch a full air assault with a squadron of TIE fighters, leveling the buildings and slaughtering the inhabitants, from old to youngling.”

“It was---”

He didn’t bother to let the man finish, “From the time the Star Destroyer violated New Republic space to the time they left Amasis a burning ruin, over two hours passed. Tell me, was it incompetence? Negligence?” For a long beat, he paused, before continuing, “Or was it something more willful?”

Marnel’s eyes narrowed and his face twisted, teeth grinding together, “Why do you care what happened to _jedi_? Their kind has been nothing but a curse upon the galaxy.”

Rage shook through him and his fists clenched, yes, they were getting to the root of it, weren’t they?

“So you allowed the First Order to take care of them for you?”

The man leaned as far forward as his restraints allowed, “The spawn of the Darth Vader himself was creating the next army that would come to subjugate the rest of us and the New Republic senate did nothing! Insisted we protect them! I have no regrets about allowing it to burn.”

“And so you admit your guilt. Did you just allow the attack or did you encourage it, Captain?” he asked, his modulated voice somehow sounding more ominous than it had before as he stood.

Marnel’s eyes darkened but said nothing. The man didn’t need to, the way his force signature spiked told him everything he needed to know. “That’s what I thought,” he said, stretching out his hand and plunging immediately into the man’s mind, paying the agonized screams no mind as he tore through the man’s memories without mercy.

When he was done, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He had what he needed-- confirmation of guilt, and more threads to chase, more names. More people to find and mete out judgement.

Opening his eyes he stepped back to the wall, eyes never leaving the man now slumped over in the chair, trying to catch his breath. As the man sat upright again, he released his restraints. The sudden freedom left Marnel confused as he took a moment to process the fact.

Then with a blur the man darted to his feet, lunging for the blaster pistol on the stool between them. As Marnel leveled the blaster at him, he raised his hand, watching with satisfaction as the man’s eyes widened as the force hold locked him in place.

“You have confessed, and now you will face judgement,” he said, concentrating hard as he forced Marnel’s arm to bend and raise. Such manipulation was incredibly difficult, but he managed, treating the man in front of him like a puppet as he made him position the blaster against his own head.

Marnel continued to fight feebly against the invisible force holding him in place, eyes wide with horror.

Reaching up, he released the lock on his mask, pulling it off his head and dropping it to the floor between his feet. The man stared at him in a mix of panic and horror and confusion.

“My name is Ben Organa,” he said, softly. “And the people you helped kill were like family to me. I judge you in their names, and sentence you to death.”

Giving Marnel a moment to allow his words to sink in, he pressed the man’s own finger down on the blaster trigger, watching blood and bone splattered against the side wall of the room. For a long beat he just stared at the gore, before bending down and picking up his mask and putting it on again.

The scene was suspicious, normally he would have taken a little more time to clean up, but it was time he didn’t have if he intended to meet Poe on Jakku.

It didn’t really matter, the cause of death would clearly be that the man shot himself. Ultimately it would be ruled a suicide. Whatever suspicions the authorities harbored would be lost in the wake of that finding.

With one final, satisfied look, he turned and walked out the door into the Hosnian night.

 

* * *

 

Light years away, a girl awoke from a dream, or maybe a nightmare, she had trouble remembering it after a few seconds. Staring up at the metal ceiling, she sighed, exhausted but not alert and awake. Sleep had always been a flighty thing for her, something that would flit around just beyond her grasp as the emptiness would start to smother her. But lately it had been even more fickle, and she was lucky if she managed more than a few hours a night the last week or two.

It was getting to the point where she was worried she would make a mistake when she was out in the graveyard. One mistake could easily be fatal, or become fatal if one got wounded. It wasn’t like there were medics out this way, and the few healers you could find didn’t work for free.

The wind was blowing tonight, she could tell from the sound of the sand scouring the outside of the AT-AT. Sighing, she rolled out of her hammock, ignoring the angry gurgle her stomach made in protest of the lack of food she’d been able to give it. Plutt, the ugly prick, had been extra stingy lately with his portions, paying half of what he should in trade for the parts he was given.

Pulling the wrap from her shoulder and winding it around the lower half of her face to give her some protection from the blowing sand, she walked outside into the cold desert night, looking up at the twin moons shining above her. She tried to remember her dream, but it was gone, leaving only a strange foreboding feeling in its wake.

She felt strange. The last few weeks she’d been feeling a pull, a sense of urgency, and something… something else. It was like something inside her was stirring, rolling restlessly in its sleep. Rolling restlessly as if it knew there was an approaching dawn.

Shaking her head, she sighed. All of it was probably just products of her sleep deprived mind and imagination.

Sparring one last glance up at the two moons, one nearly full and one a waning crescent, she went back inside to try to find the sleep that she already knew was going to elude her the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't sure what to think about a potential revelation on his uncle's location, not after six years of finding nothing that could help him track the man down. Every lead he chased had turned out to be no more than smoke with no substance, just more dead ends that left him feeling more and more frustrated and angry.
> 
> Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure how he would even react if he did finally find Luke. Part of him, the part that fed and drove the side of his persona that had become Kylo Ren, wanted to throttle the man, punish him for leaving him alone to deal with the chaos and aftermath of the new Jedi’s fall. The other part of him wanted to grab the man who had become his protector and somewhat of a replacement father in the ten years he shadowed the man, grab him and hug him and sob into his chest. To allow himself to be taken under Luke’s wing again and guided through this mess of a galaxy. To no longer have to face it all alone as the last remnant of a brighter past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more backstory. Hope I'm not overloading too much backstory on the front end.
> 
> I'm going to do a Reylo NaNaRiMo with this fic and aim to do 15k words on it this month. Check out UnderratedReylo on tumblr if you think you'd want to join in :)

Four months after the massacre he found himself face to face… well face to absurdly gigantic holographic face… with the creature who had tormented his youth.

He’d been on a routine mission at his mother’s request, a basic surveillance operation. Something she had asked him to do in the hopes of giving him things to do that would distract him from the depression and grief and survivor guilt he just couldn't shake off. Yet someone apparently had been aware he was going to be there, and he walked into a trap.

There was no doubt that it was set for him. His partner on the trip, a Resistance pilot who he barely knew, came under attack suddenly. And as he was distracted by trying to help the man, several more pounced on him, one jabbed a needle into his arm while another hit him with a stun gun. He went down embarrassingly fast and embarrassingly easy, something he still hadn’t forgiven himself for to this day.

He awoke to the quiet hum of a starship's engines on the floor of a cold, bleak metal cell, some gods forsaken things around his wrists that appeared to be disrupting his contact with the force. For hours or days, it was hard to judge at that point, he was alone in that cell, pacing, meditating, looking for a potential way out that didn’t seem to exist. None of his captors, not even a guard, had come into sight, and without the force he couldn’t feel for if anyone was near. For all he could tell he was adrift on an empty ship, though logic told him that was unlikely.

Sometime later, it was hard to say how much, he was meditating when he heard several sets of footsteps approaching. He had been given neither food nor water in his time there, and he was both hungry and thirsty, but there was no chance he was going to give his captors the satisfaction of seeing that he was so. Waiting until the approaching footsteps stopped in front of his cell, he slowly opened his eyes to meet the piercing gaze of two blue ones.

He looked at the man, trying his damndest to keep an outward appearance of high jedi stoicism. It was a method he’d seen Luke use time and time again, and it never failed to irritate the druk out of whatever adversary he was facing. So keeping his emotions as tamped down as he could, he let his eyes drift up to take in the black officer’s cap and the red hair underneath it, to the smirking, sharp features of his face, and then down to the stiff officer’s jacket without a wrinkle in it, the perfectly pressed pants and the black boots with a high shine to them. And just as slowly he let his gaze travel back up again till he was looking at the the man’s face.

First Order. Rage bubbled in him, even though he had suspected as much.

Though he tried to keep the emotion out of his eyes, the sudden cock of the man’s head and the widening of his smirk let him know that he hadn’t entirely succeeded.

“Ben Organa, so honored to have one of the _last_ Jedi as a guest aboard my ship.”

When he didn’t show any response to that, he got his first flash of irritation in the eyes of the man in front of him. The smarmy prick wasn’t happy that he wasn’t being goaded into reacting.

“I’m General Hux. I take it the accommodations are adequate?” another small smirk. “Though I suppose we’ve been remiss in asking if you want any refreshments.” Hux’s head had cocked, as if he was hoping that this would get him to ask for some water. His dislike of the man was growing more intense by the second.

_I’m going to kill you, if not now, someday you son of a bitch_

The thought had surprised him with the viciousness of it. It was the antithesis of his uncle’s teaching to want revenge. Yet… he had wanted it. He wanted to break the neck of this Hux, of the troopers flanking him on either side. Wanted to kill any and all First Order he could get his hands on after what they did. The darkness that rose with those thoughts felt right, felt righteous.

Somehow he managed to keep his emotionless facade on despite the growing rage.

Hux was clearly getting irritated now, he turned to one of the stormtroopers flanking him, “The Supreme Leader wants to speak with him. Give him some water and bring him to the Hall.” Casting one more annoyed in his direction, Hux turned and strode out.

The two troopers were wary of him, force suppression cuffs or not, keeping their blasters trained on him. He had to resist the temptation to try to take them on. Force or no force, he thought he could--- but what then? His knowledge of the ship he wa son was limited to this cell and the hallway he could see. No, he’d wait, watch, and take the better opportunities to come.

He was given a small amount of water and then rough handled down the hallways by the troopers, leading through a maze of a ship--- it had to be a destroyer, as large as it was, into a darkened, cavernous room with a giant dais on one end. Hux was already there, waiting in front of the dais as the trooper shoved him next to the general before taking several steps back. He had glanced at Hux questioningly, but then light shimmered in front of him as a hologram sprang to life.

It was at least twenty feet high, filling the dais with the hologram of the man--- well, no, not man, he was humanish but not human--- on a massive throne. The twisted, damaged face, and calculating eyes were staring down at him with intense scrutiny.

His first thought, which he remembered clearly even after the time that passed, was that someone had to be compensating for something to need to project themselves that large.

“I am so happy we finally get to meet, my boy,” the voice sounded old, but not weak. It would be a bad idea to underestimate the creature in front of him. “After you’ve shunned me now for so long. I am Supreme Leader Snoke.”

He’d figured that out already. The dark rage grew, this creature was the one that had sent him nightmares and nursed his insecurities from a time longer back than he could remember. Trying to manipulate him into a darkness than he had nearly fell into, if not for Luke…

The creature chuckled, “And where is that uncle of yours now?” He winced, without the force his mind was open to Snoke. He had to be careful with his thoughts. “I only tried to show you the glorious future that could be yours. Even as a child you found the power it promised tempting, did you not?”

He said nothing, doing his best to keep his thoughts as blank as his face. It was hard though, his emotions were skipping and jumping and he could do nothing to keep those in check.

“Even now, such beautiful, glorious rage,” Snoke fawned. “That destiny is still promised to you, fulfill it. Become who you were meant to be.”

He couldn't help but show his surprise. This thing, this monster, really thought he could still be recruited?

“Of course I do. I have seen your future, I still see it, see the glory you will be as Kylo Ren.” Snoke’s eyes glittered, “Unlike everyone else, I have never abandoned you, boy.”

“I will never serve you,” he said, coldly.

“I would like permission to interrogate him on Skywalker’s whereabouts,” Hux began, shooting him a sideways glance.

“No.”

Hux looked taken aback, “But Supreme Leader!”

“He doesn't know, General,” Snoke’s voice simpered with fake sympathy. “His precious uncle has left him, just like everyone else he has ever believed or trusted.”

His fists clenched and he wasn't able to keep his anger from his face. Hux glowered at him but said nothing as the Supreme Leader turned, “Have him brought to me at once.” The giant face once again turned back to him, cold menace glimmering in his eyes, “Organa and I need to… talk… in person to truly come to an understanding about his place in all of this.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux’s voice was edged with resentment and disappointment as the hologram shimmered and faded.

“I take it he’s compensating for something?” he found himself speaking despite his much better judgement hissing at him to shut up. Hux’s eyes flashed as he turned, looking both surprised at his choice to start commentating now and pissed at what he was saying. Good. “I mean, over the top giant holo… and _Supreme Leader_ ? Who the hell calls themselves a _Supreme Leader_ unless they’ve got some major inadequacies…”

Hux glanced over his shoulder and he found his words cut off as the butt of a blaster slammed into the back of his head and drove him to his knees.

“Take him back to his cell while I contact the Actium to arrange transport,” the redhead spat before turning and striding away. The two troopers grabbed him and dragged him to his feet.

His lucky break had been Hux’s choice to send him on a smaller transport ship, a small battle corvette with a crew of maybe thirty. And the arrogant bastards had decided to disembark while they were still transferring him to a cell. Apparently they thought he wasn’t a threat as long as he had their little cuffs blocking him from the force.

He caught the stormtroopers escorting him to his cell by surprise, breaking one’s neck and using his blaster to take out the other. From there… well… things got a little fuzzy. Making an escape would have been the sensible thing to do, get a fighter and make a run for it before they knew what was happening. But a red haze had seemed to settle over his brain, and he didn’t run, no…

Instead he went through the ship methodically until every single crew member was dead. His mind not clearing until he sitting on the bridge of the ship, surrounded by bodies and splattered with blood. The suppression cuffs were still on, smeared with blood from those he’d killed with his bare hands.

Thirty people, he should have been horrified, this kind of slaughter wasn’t the Jedi way. Instead, he felt nothing, nothing save for a small bit of dark satisfaction at the carnage around him.

The First Order had destroyed everything he had come to love and believe in. Snoke had attempted to subvert and twist him from the time he was still a baby.

They all should die.

Them any anyone who had helped them.

Before he left the bridge to find the escape pod, leaving the ship adrift with nothing but the dead for the First Order to find, he made a decision. If the Supreme Leader wanted Kylo Ren to come into existence so badly, maybe he should give him what he wanted.

But the Kylo Ren he created would never serve Snoke… no… he’d exist to destroy the Supreme Leader, his precious First Order, and anyone else who had ever had a hand in aiding them.

 

* * *

 

It didn't take him long to strip the small room of his belongings, as few as they were. Which was good, he was already running behind if he intended to make it to Jakku in time to meet Poe at Tuanal.

He wasn't sure what to think about a potential revelation on his uncle's location, not after six years of finding nothing that could help him track the man down. Every lead he chased had turned out to be no more than smoke with no substance, just more dead ends that left him feeling more and more frustrated and angry.

Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure how he would even react if he did finally find Luke. Part of him, the part that fed and drove the side of his persona that had become Kylo Ren, wanted to throttle the man, punish him for leaving him alone to deal with the chaos and aftermath of the new Jedi’s fall. The other part of him wanted to grab the man who had become his protector and somewhat of a replacement father in the ten years he shadowed the man, grab him and hug him and sob into his chest. To allow himself to be taken under Luke’s wing again and guided through this mess of a galaxy. To no longer have to face it all alone as the last remnant of a brighter past.

Given what he had allowed himself to become, the latter might be a dream that could never be possible again. He had no illusions that Luke wouldn’t figure out what he’d been doing, wouldn’t feel that darkness that now was interwoven with the light and know something had changed with his padawan. From there the truth would come out, and still he would regret nothing.

It wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop him from trying to find the man. If there was hope in the galaxy for the light to triumph over the dark side, it was Luke. His own actions had long since proven it wasn’t him. If it was possible, he would bring his uncle home and face whatever consequences would come.

He dropped pulled Kylo Ren’s robes from the tiny closet, folding them carefully and placing them on the top of his bag. It was strange, normally he kept them hidden well under the rest of his things when he traveled, buried away as if he could hide it even from himself. But some impulse was telling him he wanted to keep his gear where it was within reach.

Probably nothing, he thought to himself as he set the mask on the top before reaching up to remove the two other objects sitting on that shelf. He paused, holding the two lightsabers before him, one in each hand, and on impulse ignited them both. The first, a refined looking hilt burst to life with a smooth yellow blade. His first saber, the one he’d built under his uncle’s watchful eye. The second, heavy, crude, and brutal, vibrated to life with a fierce crackling flicker of red, crossguard springing to life just a moment after the blade. They weren’t just decoration, but a key component in the design, the only thing that kept the weapon from ripping itself apart.

It was an absurd thing, yet he turned it in his hand and felt a dark pride. The crystal he had found, corrupted at some point prior to him just happening upon it, damaged--- a crack running through the length of it--- barely contained it’s own power. He had managed to create a design that could tame it, harness that power without allowing the crystal to destroy itself. Crude as it may be, absurd as it may be, it was a work of art in its own strange way.

His two weapons, one dark, one light. There was just enough of a romantic in him to find it poetic.

Thumbing them both off, he turned and set the heavy crossguard saber next to Kylo Ren’s mask before holstering his yellow saber, his Jedi saber, to his belt, closing the bags and throwing them over his shoulder. If he was lucky he could get to where his ship was docked within an hour.

 

* * *

 

He was loading his bags into his ship when he felt it.

The best he could describe it as was a disruption, a spike. If you imagined the force as a river, this would have been the violent splash and waves as something broke the surface, normal flow momentary shifting around the agitation. It was as if some leviathan had been sleeping somewhere in the depths that river, and had come to life and rose, breaching the surface with turbulent power.

An awakening? If so it was the most powerful one he had ever personally felt. His own awakening had been fairly gradual, but there had been a spike of sudden growth when he was around twelve, one that Luke claimed he’d felt and had known was him.

Strange.

Shaking his head, he did his best to dismiss the feeling. For now it was no concern of his, aside from being aware of it.

Climbing into the cockpit if the small transport, he powered up his engines and checked the chrono. He might still get to Jakku in enough time to overlap Poe. If not… well, he could chat with Lor before meeting up with his mother on D’Qar, and see if this new lead was worth anything more than all the others he’d chased over the last few years.

His ship rose, tilting upward as it headed towards the stars visible through the Hosnian atmosphere. A strange mixture of feelings--- relief to be leaving Hosnia, and yet a strange feeling of urgency he couldn’t explain. As if something was trying to warn him that something big was coming. Something important.

Taking a deep breath he did his best to settle his rattled nerves as he made the jump to hyperspace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated the saber but, come on, Kylo needs his crossguard saber. At some point we'll probably have to get clearer backstory surrounding that crystal in a flashback.
> 
> My standing headcanon (pretty much crosses all my stories that have Kylo flashbacks to Ben) is that Ben had a yellow saber. I don't know why, but I've decided in my head this is what it must be.
> 
> I'm going to admit much of this story is still within a haze in my head, I really am not sure entirely how to bring all the characters in, but in time I'll figure it out. I started Snare in a similar way, with a very vague sense of where I was going. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos on chapter 1. I love you :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the nearly endless expanse of wreckage in the graveyard, getting anything worthwhile out of them was difficult and dangerous. Over the last thirty years, anything of value that was easy to get to had long been picked clean. Most of the good stuff that was moderately hard to get to was also long gone, though there were still scattered scraps that could be harvested, not worth much alone but if you got enough together you might get yourself a quarter portion. Anything of real value though, the “good stuff” as she tended to think of it, was either in parts of the wrecks that were incredibly hard to access, or in places where it was dangerous to go. Or in some cases, both.
> 
> Which was why she was where she was, climbing up the skeleton of a star destroyer, a speck crawling in the insides of some long fallen leviathan. This high up, one missed handhold, one slipped foot, and it meant certain death. To make matters worse, the frame of the ship had sustained structural damage either during the battle or subsequent crash into the sands in that long ago battle. The metal in places strained or screamed in warning as it supported her weight.

Despite the nearly endless expanse of wreckage in the graveyard, getting anything worthwhile out of them was difficult and dangerous. Over the last thirty years, anything of value that was easy to get to had long been picked clean. Most of the good stuff that was moderately hard to get to was also long gone, though there were still scattered scraps that could be harvested, not worth much alone but if you got enough together you might get yourself a quarter portion. Anything of real value though, the “good stuff” as she tended to think of it, was either in parts of the wrecks that were incredibly hard to access, or in places where it was dangerous to go. Or in some cases, both.

Which was why she was where she was, climbing up the skeleton of a star destroyer, a speck crawling in the insides of some long fallen leviathan. This high up, one missed handhold, one slipped foot, and it meant certain death. To make matters worse, the frame of the ship had sustained structural damage either during the battle or subsequent crash into the sands in that long ago battle. The metal in places strained or screamed in warning as it supported her weight.

It didn’t deter her from her goal, though she tested every grip warily.

She was covered head to toe… the dust in some of these wrecks were contaminated, and while it wasn’t anything that could kill or even make you significantly sick, it could irritate the eyes and cause rashes on one’s skin. Breathing it could cause lung problems over time, so she kept her mouth covered, wore goggles she’d made from the lenses of an old stormtrooper’s helmet to protect her eyes. There was no such thing as being safe while scavenging the graveyard, but you did the best you could to minimize the risk.

It wasn’t good to be tired while doing this, but it couldn’t be helped, not if she wanted to eat. Sleep continued to be fitful and elusive for her. And she… felt strange… jumpy almost. As if some live electrical wire was coming to life inside her and starting to spark. She did the best she could to ignore it, not let it distract her from the tasks at hand.

Reaching the goal she’d been climbing towards, she quickly disengaged the front access panel of the power junction, pulling it and then letting it slip through her fingers and drop towards the bottom of the ship. She didn’t bother to look down and watch it the long seconds it took before it clattered distantly onto the metal, the sound echoing throughout the wreck.

Behind the veil that covered her face, she smiled as she reached in and wrenched a power converter from where it was nestled among the wires. There were three of them in this junction. Even if Plutt was being extra stingy while trading, these should get at least a half portion each. She dropped each one into her hip bag, before turning to look at the long cable of durasteel that dangled from somewhere even higher up in the wreck. It angled too far away from the wall to have been useful for climbing up, but she’d tested it when she was on the ground and determined it was solidly anchored somewhere above.

Not so good for going up, but it should be a quick way to get down.

She leaned over, letting go of her hand holds in order to grab on to the cable… and missed. Her eyes widened as she flailed in the air a moment, time seeming to slow down as her feet slipped and she began to fall. Her hands snatched at the cable but it was out just out of her reach.

Oh R’iia, she was falling.

She was going to die. And this high up she’d even have a few seconds to watch her death approaching rapidly. Once again she grabbed at the cable, even though she knew it was out of reach, that it was too late. But to her shock cable seemed to flex suddenly, swinging into her outstretched hand. She closed her fingers around it as tight as she could, wincing as she slammed to a halt, pain shooting through her shoulder as it took the brunt of her weight. Her other hand joined the one she was dangling from to get a secure grip on the cable, and she hooked her leg around, twisting the cable around her foot so her legs could take her weight.

For a few minutes she stayed there, swinging faintly back and forth as she caught her breath and let her mind realize that yes, she was okay, she wasn’t dead. Once her breathing was back to something close to normal, she unhooked her foot and loosened her fingers, allowing herself to slide down the cable until she landed on the ground in a crouch.

Her heart was still pounding in her chest, feeling like it was trying to just jump right up her throat. Staggering slightly she made her way out of the darkness of the destroyer into the blindingly bright Jakku sun. Ripping off her goggles and pulling the veil from her mouth, she pulled her water bottle out of her hip pouch and spun it open. It was light, nearly empty, but she dumped the remaining contents into her mouth, smacking her hand against the bottle to get every drop she could.

Far below the massive dune she stood on, her speeder was parked at the base. She had a quarter portion left at home. She’d eat that tonight and deal with cleaning and trading some of her haul tomorrow.

Right now all she wanted was to go home and rest.

 

* * *

 

He broke out of hyperspace on the edge of the system, an almost instinctive precautionary measure. It turned out to be a good thing he did. As soon as he entered the system his transport’s proximity alarms went off, alerting him of a very large ship ahead.

The Star Destroyer loomed by one of Jakku’s moons. He skirted wide, skimming within the gravity fields of the other planets to try to stay off their sensors.

Kriff, there could only be one reason why they were here. They had to have gotten word somehow of the map. If he was lucky, Poe had already been and left, as late has he was getting here---but even if that was the case, Lor and everyone in Tuanal was still in danger. And if Poe and the map were still here…

Taking cover behind a moon, he glanced over his shoulder at his bag. Just as he’d impulsively packed Kylo’s gear on the top where it was easy to access, he’d also found himself wanting to keep the bag handy rather than stowing it in one of the storage compartments. It was tempting, knowing he was going to face the First Order, to go down as his alter ego. Tempting but risky. He’d only used Kylo Ren when facing down First Order targets where there were no witnesses that weren’t First Order, or when he was acting as judge and executioner and the only person who would see him wouldn’t be left alive.

If he used Kylo here, people would see, he’d be in risk of exposing who was behind that mask. He could easily go down as he was, fight with the force and his Jedi saber--- but…

There were things he would let himself do while wearing that mask that he couldn’t seem to do without it. As Ben he harnessed the light and he followed the Jedi teachings. As Kylo… as Kylo he didn’t have any limitations.

As he debated, a set of transports disembarked from the Destroyer, heading towards Jakku.

He grabbed the bag, pulling it close as he quickly programed the autopilot to take a gradual approach that should, hopefully, keep him out of sight and off the enemy sensors. Once his transport was moving he unzipped his bag, pulling out the mask and setting it on the console next to him.

If he was going to do this, he better change fast.

 

* * *

 

He saw the fires burning long before he could see anything else. It singed the pitch black of the desert night, and behind his mask he snarled. The sons of bitches were burning the village, an unnecessary and brutal tactic, clearly meant to terrorize the inhabitants.

His rage felt right, felt righteous.

As he made his approach he could make out the white armor of the stormtroopers by the light cast by the burning buildings and blaster bolts, the transports, and a black upsilon class shuttle, light spilling out of it’s open hatch. He adjusted his approach, powering up the front cannons on his transport. They weren’t much, it wasn’t a ship designed to fight, but with the element of surprise, he was sure he could do some damage. Coming from the rear, he swooped down sharply, opening fire on the command shuttle as he made his pass, a satisfying explosion rocking the sleek black ship as he took out an engine. Continuing to fire as he passed, he sent stormtroopers and what looked like an officer or two diving out of the way.

Rising sharply in altitude, he hoped to be able to pivot and get at least one more pass, but the transport’s weak thrusters weren’t powerful enough to get him away fast enough. A barrage of blaster fire from the ground rocked the ship, and he banked hard to the right as one blast took out a thruster and another damaged his right stabilizer. Already losing altitude, he fought the yoke as he maneuvered the ship to the dunes a short bit beyond the edge of the village. It listed sideways as he landed, partially embedding itself in the sand.

He released the hatch and climbed out quickly, saber in hand as he lept down from the transport, landing in a crouch. They were sure to send troopers to track down his ship, he stood, igniting his saber, not bothering to take cover as he strode towards the burning village with purpose.

A group of stormtroopers appeared over a rise in the sand, opening fire on him immediately. He raised his free hand up, freezing the bolts midair and then reversing their direction to send them back at the troopers who fired them. They dove to the sides, dodging the bolts, and he bore down on them, saber spitting menacingly. Several turned and ran as he approached, the few who stood their ground opened fire again. He batted the red bolts away, continuing to bear down on them, his mind falling into a red haze as he hacked his way through. More enemies awaited as he began to pass the burning ruins of homes and he carved his way through them just as mercilessly.

Reaching the center of the village, he had a moment to register the scene and to realize he had yet to reach the apex of his anger yet. The villagers had been herded like nerfs into the village center, an outer circle of stormtroopers holding them in place. He understood, instinctively, what was going to happen to them before the Order left.

They were going to kill them all. His rage spiked at this fact, the righteous fury feeding his strength.

Beyond them, the officer he had seen from the air, along with a silver armored stormtrooper he recognized from his research as Captain Phasma, stood in front of a kneeling figure.

Poe.

In the split second it took for all this to register, the troopers spotted him. He sent the ones guarding the villagers flying with a wave of his hand, giving the villagers the opening to run, which they took. Some troopers staggered to their feet and opened fire at those running, and he found he could get even angrier still as he deflected those bolts before reaching out with the force and crushing the necks of the troopers who’d fired them, feeling satisfaction as their force signatures blinked out.

In front of Poe the officer had looked up, his blue eyes flashing and his mouth twisted in rage. His hat was slightly askew, leaving the coppery red hair looking slightly mussed. His felt his focus fixate on the man as he recognized him. Leaving him very aware that there was a growing recognition in Hux’s eyes.

The general was barking out orders as he backpedaled towards one of the transports. Another wave of blaster bolts came his direction as a squad of troopers rushed at him, he barely looked at them as he cut them down, his eyes instead focusing on the three troopers that were hauling Poe to his feet and beginning to drag him towards the transport Hux and Phasma were retreating to. A feral snarl broke from his lips as he force threw them away from his friend. Rushing forward, he saw the transport beginning to lift off the ground just as he reached Poe. A single blaster bolt shot from it, not aimed at him he realized, but at the man now on the ground next to him.

Sons of bitches. He batted the bolt away from a dazed looking Poe, glaring at Hux, standing blaster pistol in hand as the hatch began to close as the ship pulled away.

The rest of the troopers were fleeing now, heading towards the remaining transports. He turned his attention to the three who had been dragging Poe as they pulled themselves off the ground. He killed the first two before they could stand, before turning to the third who had managed to scramble to his feet and was staggering backwards, a bloody handprint contrasting against the white of his helmet.

He lifted his saber and then froze, not sure why, staring at the trooper and the trooper staring back, blaster pointed at the ground. His saber tilted downward and the trooper took another step back before whirling and ran to the transport with the rest of the retreating troopers.

As the transport took off, he thumbed off his saber, breathing hard, confused as to why he had let the trooper go. Shaking his head, he turned, nearly stumbling on the body of one of the troopers he’d killed before he regained his composure and made his way back to Poe, noticing for the first time the body of the man on the ground next to where Hux had Poe kneeling.

Kriff, Lor.

He sank down on a knee by the body of the man, bowing his head slightly, noting how much older the man seemed compared to the last time they’d met. San Tekka had been shot in the chest at close range, probably an execution. Maybe to convince Poe to talk?

At least that implied the First Order hadn’t gotten the map.

Getting to his feet he walked towards Poe, who pushed himself back on his elbows, still looking dazed and fearful. Blood matted his hair, clearly the butt of a blaster or two and been bashed into his head. He stopped, standing over his friend, afraid to say anything that might give his identity away.

Poe’s brown eyes squinted, his voice slurred slightly, blustery bravado in his tone, “Who talks first? I talk first?”

He cocked his head and smiled behind the mask, that was a very Poe thing to say.

“Yeah, I talk first, eh?” Poe collapsed back to the ground, his eyes closing, fighting and clearly losing his battle to stay conscious. “Guess I should thank you, as long as you ain’t here to kill me too.” He didn’t respond, and Poe mumbled one last thing before he fell into unconsciousness, “Ain’t much for talking, huh, big guy?”

 

* * *

 

He dragged Poe back to his transport, leaving the man sitting against the side of the ship as he climbed back in, activating the distress pulsar to alert the Resistance that help was needed. Pulling off the mask and his gloves, he shoved them into a small bag before grabbing his robe from the floor and tossing it over to hide his Kylo get up. It was a piss poor disguise, but Poe wasn’t likely in a condition to be noting details when he woke up, at least he hoped he wouldn’t be. Grabbing the transport’s small medkit, climbed out and jumped down, pulling out bacta patches as he knelt down next to his friend.

Poe’s eyes fluttered and the man groaned.

“Easy, buddy,” he said, doing his best to adhere a bacta patch to the head wound.

“Ben?” Poe blinked up at him, looking completely confused.

“Yep,” he put a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder, “take it easy, you’ve probably got a concussion.”

“Where the kriff you come from?” Poe muttered, eyes darting around, “You see the other guy?”

“I came from Hosnia Prime. You saw me there yesterday, remember?”

“Not what I mean, smartass,” Poe tried to sit up and then groaned, giving up and leaning back. “Seriously, what happened to the masked guy?”

“Masked guy?” he let doubt edge his voice, as if this sounded crazy.

“Fella in black that hacked his way through the First Order. He saved us, I guess…” Poe squinted back at the ship he was leaning on. “Was that you that fired on the command shuttle?”

“Yeah, a little late I guess. Got knocked out when I set her down hard after they took out my stabilizers,” he paused as he applied another bacta patch. “When I came to, I headed for the village, but it was deserted except for the dead and you. What happened?”

Poe closed his eyes, “Sons of bitches killed San Tekka.”

“I saw,” he answered, softly.

Pushing himself up suddenly, Poe looked around, “Wait, we got to find my droid…”

He grabbed Poe’s shoulder, pushing him back, “You’re in any shape to go anywhere, Beebs can wait.”

“No,” Poe grabbed his wrist forcefully, “Beebeeate has the map.”

“Wait, what?” he stiffened, looking out to scan the dark desert, even though he knew it was futile, even if the droid was nearby he wouldn’t be able to spot him out here.

“I gave it to him and told him to run after they took out my fighter’s engines.”

He sat back on his heels a moment before glancing down at Poe, “I got the distress call going for the Resistance. They should be here in a few hours. In the meantime I’ll track down your droid.”

“Na no no… I’m got to come with you,” Poe snagged his robe and he tensed slightly, worried he might pull a gap in it and catch sight of what he was wearing underneath.

“You’re not in any shape to go wandering the desert, Poe.” He gave the man’s hand a squeeze, “Don’t worry, I’ll find him.”

Poe glared a moment before sinking back again to lean on the transport, “Kriff. Fine. I don’t like it, but fine.”

He snorted, shaking his head, and Poe squinted at him again, “You seriously didn’t see the masked guy? I think… I think it was---”

Frowning, he looked down apprehensively, “Think it was what?”

“The guy… the boogeyman the First Order whispers about.”

“The what?”

Poe pushed himself up again, “Aw, come on, you’ve got your ear to the ground, you’ve had to have heard about it. They call him Kiyo, or something like that, Ren.”

Kiyo? Really? Kiyo? Could you screw that one up a bit more, Dameron?

And he had been aware, of course, of the reputation he was getting among the First Order. He’d struck more than a few First Order ships and even a small space station once, leaving carnage and death in his wake. What he hadn’t been aware of was that there was anyone who knew about him outside of the Order. He supposed that had been optimistic of him. His mother had her ear to the ground and would have been aware of the attacks on First Order targets. From there she probably had heard some of what had turned up on the security footage.

“I’ve heard some ghost stories, everyone needs to have some demon to whisper about. Never paid it any mind.”

“It ain’t ghost stories, buddy. I’m pretty sure that was him tonight.”

“This conversation’s getting a little bit weird,” he stood, “and I’ve got a droid to find. I’ll find a way to make contact once Beebs is safe.”

“Don’t call him Beebs, Ben, it annoys him,” Poe grumbled.

He laughed, “I’ll apologize for annoying your droid when I see him.” Pulling one of the two water rations out of the medkit, he shoved it into Poe’s hands before pocketing the remaining one.

Poe frowned, “You should take both of these.”

Gathering his bag and swinging it over his shoulder, he glanced back, “You look like you need some, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going wandering in the kriffing desert,” Poe tried to sit up again, “for kriffs sake, Ben, you need it more than me. Being a Jedi doesn’t make you less prone to dehydration.”

“Shut up and drink it,” he called over his shoulder as he walked into the blackness of the desert night, illuminated only by the two moons above.

“You’re a karking laserbrain, Ben Organa,” Poe called. “Don’t you kriffing die out there, my man, your mother’ll never forgive me!”

He laughed to himself, glancing up to take in endless sprawl of stars above him. Just a planet full of sand and a stray droid on the run… right? How hard could he be to find?

Rolling his eyes at his own sarcastic thoughts, he headed towards Niima Outpost, hoping that Beebeeate would have the sense to head towards a population center, or at least what served for a population center.

Cause if he didn’t this little quest was kriffed before it even got started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the kudos and comments. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What you brought me today…” Plutt hummed slightly to himself, “is worth one quarter portion.”
> 
> One quarter portion? Her temper rose, even if one was being moderate, the power converter was worth at least a half portion. Really, it should be worth a whole portion, if not two. And he was going to give her a quarter portion for it? It took effort not to argue, not to pull the part back and say it was worth more than that. Because if anything, it would only make Plutt more vindictive with his offers later on. And because she needed to eat, and she couldn’t eat her pride.
> 
> _Becoming such a pretty thing…_
> 
> She blinked, what the hell was that?
> 
> Plutt paid her reaction no mind, slamming the quarter portion onto the counter, eyes still leering at her.
> 
> _...gets hungry enough maybe she’ll be willing…_
> 
> She stared at Plutt as she pulled the quarter portion off the counter and turned, sparing him one last glance over her shoulder as she walked away.
> 
> Seriously, what was that? It had felt as if she’d been reading the kriffing blobfish’s thoughts. Which was almost as disturbing as what she’d been hearing if she had been…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Ben and Rey meeting yet this chapter. But we're getting closer.

He had a headache.

It throbbed angrily behind his eyes, pulsing with each breath and each heartbeat. It made him want to dim the lights of his office, but loathed to give such a sign of weakness to those under him. So he endured the pain as he stared at the datapad in front of him---the butcher’s bill from their little excursion to Tuanal.

They had lost a command shuttle. They had lost over a third of the stormtroopers they had brought down. A small amount of which had fallen as they secured the village, but most of them...

He gritted his teeth together, fists clenching tightly. Organa. Organa in that ridiculous mask. The son of a bitch had been nothing but trouble since his escape from First Order custody over five years ago. Donning that get up and striking their bases and people with a precision and ruthlessness that was nearly unfathomable. Even worse, there had been a series of “suicides” of some of the First Order contacts and spies, some past, some present, within the New Republic. He did not believe they were unrelated, anymore than he believed any of them had taken their own lives. It was whittling down the number of reliable resources they had behind enemy lines.

Among the ranks there was a growing fear as whispers and rumours of the attacks circulated and grew in notoriety. They spoke of it in hushed tones, as if they feared even speaking of this masked attacker might be an invitation for him to appear like some supernatural avenging demon. They were inventing a backstory for him, whispering that Kylo Ren had been one of Snoke’s Knights of Ren, but he had turned on the Supreme Leader after some slight had left him infuriated.

Such rubbish, he would much prefer to set the record straight, make sure everyone knew “Kylo Ren” really was. But Snoke was adamant that this information remain secret.

_I would have them fear one of my knights before I would have them fear the Jedi._

Rubbish. All of it. If the Supreme Leader didn’t have his strange fascination with that man, Ben Organa would have been interrogated and executed and never given an opportunity to escape. But instead had had been forced to ship the son of a bitch off, and putting him on the Actium had somehow given the man an opening.

It was hard to wrap his mind around it still, that one man--- one!--- could have managed to escape and slaughter an entire crew of thirty two men. The memory of finding the Actium adrift in space, nothing but the dead inside, had been haunting.

Snoke’s fury at Ben Organa’s escape had been even worse.

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose as the pain in his head throbbed. Snoke was not going to be pleased about this. About the damage they took. About Organa’s presence. About their complete failure in their main objective.

All this loss, and for nothing. They didn’t have the map. They didn’t even have a prisoner that they could interrogate about the map’s location.

No, Snoke was not going to be pleased.

“General Hux?”

He looked up from his datapad in annoyance, “What is it, Mitaka?”

Mitaka shifted nervously, “We… may have a possible lead. The Resistance pilot had an X-Wing…”

“Yes?” he snapped, “Get to the point!”

“That would have meant he had a droid.”

He blinked a second before he realized the connection Mitaka was implying. The Lieutenant shifted nervously, “And several stormtroopers reported seeing an orange and white BB unit during the raid. But it was not found when the village was finally secured.”

A BB unit. If the pilot had the map, perhaps he’d hid it with the droid and told it to run? It could still be down there then, assuming Organa hadn’t found it already.

Setting his datapad down he turned the full intensity of his gaze onto Mitaka, “If it’s down there still, I want it found. And I want it found _soon_.”

Maybe there was hope still yet for this clusterkriff to have something positive come from it.

 

* * *

 

It was a familiar enough routine, the trip into Niima, dragging her haul from the last few days to one of the cleaning stations. She’d clean up the parts, take one or two of the more valuable pieces to the blobfish to trade--- she didn’t trust him not to swindle her by offering less if she brought more--- then head back, hopefully with a day or two’s worth of portions to eat so she didn’t need to make the trip back tomorrow to trade again.

But it didn’t feel normal. Everything just felt off, or maybe _she_ felt off. That feeling of a live wire sparking within her hadn’t faded, and with it seemed to be a sense of foreboding. Niima somehow was making her feel crowded and smothered. There was nothing different here, nothing different from today than any other day she’d come to town, but it felt… off.

She tried to shake the feeling away, it was only serving to make her feel anxious, which did her no good. As she was cleaning her parts, she kept feeling distracted, her eyes being drawn to people around her. Pausing herself staring at the woman across from her, an older scavenger who’d probably been living off the graveyard for most of her life. Probably one who remembered when the pickings were so much easier to be had, when the wrecks were still smoking from the battle.

Would there even be anything left for someone like herself to scavenge in another thirty years? What would happen then? If there was nothing left to harvest, what would happen to all of them? To her?

Her heart sunk suddenly with the weight of the implication of that thought. No, this wasn’t her future. They would come for her, come back for her. She wasn’t seeing a reflection of her future self, because by then she’d have been taken away from this place.

A sharp bark made her jump. A teedo stood next to her, berating her for wasting time and space at the cleaning stations. She bowed her head down and began to scrub at the power converter in her hand, as the teedo laughed and walked away.

 

* * *

 

She stared at the blobfish’s ugly face as he turned the power converter in his hand, his eyes spending more ogling her than examining the part. It took a lot of willpower not to squirm under the leering looks he gave her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was making her uncomfortable.

Originally, she had planned to bring two of the converters, but some instinct seemed to be telling her to only offer one up, and she tended to listen to her instincts.

“What you brought me today…” Plutt hummed slightly to himself, “is worth one quarter portion.”

One quarter portion? Her temper rose, even if one was being moderate, the power converter was worth at least a half portion. Really, it should be worth a whole portion, if not two. And he was going to give her a _quarter portion_ for it? It took effort not to argue, not to pull the part back and say it was worth more than that. Because if anything, it would only make Plutt more vindictive with his offers later on. And because she needed to eat, and she couldn’t eat her pride.

_Becoming such a pretty thing…_

She blinked, what the hell was that?

Plutt paid her reaction no mind, slamming the quarter portion onto the counter, eyes still leering at her.

_...gets hungry enough maybe she’ll be willing…_

She stared at Plutt as she pulled the quarter portion off the counter and turned, sparing him one last glance over her shoulder as she walked away.

Seriously, what was that? It had felt as if she’d been reading the kriffing blobfish’s thoughts. Which was almost as disturbing as what she’d been hearing if she had been…

A quarter portion would have to do. She just needed to get home and be away from anyone and everyone for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

The sun was starting to sink low by the time she got back home.

She piloted her speeder into the leg of the fallen AT-AT to keep it secure for the night and then made her way into the access hatch on the belly, breathing a sigh of relief to be home. It was small and cramped, but it was hers, and she was alone here. Making her way to the far wall, she etched a single line into the metal to mark the passing of another day, adding it the endless rows of them that stretched from the ceiling most of the way to the floor. Another day of survival, another day closer to when they would come back for her.

She got a pan going with the vegmeat from the quarter portion and then got a bowl of water and mixed the polystarch into it. While the polystarch rose into a loaf, she slid the sizzlingly vegmeat onto a piece of metal scrap she’d repurposed into a plate. Grabbing the loaf and a bottle of water, she headed outside, sitting in the shade cast by the AT-AT’s leg now that the sun was dipping close to the horizon.

She ate every crumb of polystarch, every bit of vegmeat. Even then, she didn’t feel remotely sated or satisfied. Lifting the plate up, she licked it clean, as of late she hadn’t been able to get nearly enough to settle the grumblings in her stomach for long. Plutt was constantly giving her less than her items should be getting in trade.

Which maybe was on purpose, with a darker intent. Her mind drifted to the thoughts that had appeared in her head, thoughts that seemed like they had belonged to Plutt. It was crazy, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the idea. Setting her plate down, she caught sight of a ship in the distance heading off, heading somewhere that wasn’t here. For a few moments she just stared at the contrail, before she grabbed the old rebel helmet she’d found years ago out scavenging, shaking the sand out before dropping it over her head for no reason other than why not.

In the quiet of the approaching evening, the heat of the day starting to dissipate rapidly into the chill of the night, she sat, finally beginning to feel like she was finding some kind of peace. But it didn’t last long, a frantic, panicked beeping broke the quiet, and she lept to her feet in alarm, the overly big helmet bobbing around on her head. She ripped it off, hearing a new stream of beeps as she dropped the helmet and rushed to grab her staff and climb over a small dune to see what the commotion was about.

A teedo on a luggabeast was yelling at what looked like a small droid that he had caught in a net. The droid was fighting frantically, trying to get away. She stared for a moment before shouting, “Tal'ama parqual!”

Both the droid and the teedo froze, turning to look her direction. “Parqual zatana!” she added, glowering at the teedo. The droid wasn’t his, she knew that for certain, and the poor little BB unit was very close to being destroyed for parts.

The teedo yelled and she raised her eyebrows and squared her shoulders, striding towards them and pulling out her knife, dropping down to cut the little droid free. The teedo raised his small staff, threatening her, and she huffed angrily as she jumped to her feet, pointing her knife at him, “NOMA!”

He responded with an angry curse as he waved his hand at her and the droid dismissively, urging his luggabeast on away from them. As he went the droid let out a few choice words in binary and she glanced down and shushed him, “That’s just teedo. Wanted you for parts. He has no respect for anyone.”

She looked down at the droid, taking him in. He was a BB unit and appeared to be in good shape, aside from his antenna that had gotten bent by the net. She knelt down, nodding at it, “Your antenna’s bent.” Popping it off of him, she straightened it as she looked at the droid puzzled, he certainly didn’t belong around here, “Where do you come from?”

The droid beeped back at her and she laughed, “Classified?” Shaking her head, she popped the antenna back on, what a strange, silly little droid, “Me too, big secret.” Standing, she pointed towards Niima, “Niima Outpost is that way, stay off Kelvin Ridge.” Pausing, she looked at him and added, “Stay out of the sinking fields in the north, you’ll drown in the sand.” With that she turned, intending to lead the droid to whatever task it was doing before it had been waylaid by the teedo. But as she walked away, it followed, beeping conversationally.

She turned sharply and the droid halted, “Don’t follow me,” she pointed again towards Niima, “town is _that_ way.” Turning again, it beeped at her and she shook her head, oh no, that wasn’t going to happen, “No!”

It let out a sad, lonely beep, and she froze, closing her eyes. Gods damn it, she wasn’t going to do this. Peeking back at the little droid, it tilted its head sadly, letting out another lonely sound. She sighed, gods, she was an idiot, and she nodded her head the direction of her home begrudgingly. It perked up, beeping happily away as it rolled over to her.

Glancing down at it, she hoped it wasn’t going to try to talk to her all kriffing night. “In the morning you go,” she told it, firmly. It beeped gratefully at her and she sighed, fighting the small smile that her lips were trying to twitch into, “You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

After a night and a day of walking he had to stop and rest as darkness fell. He guessed he was only five or six more hours away from Niima, if he would venture a guess on the distance between him and the congregation of force signatures he sensed that could only be the town.

He was wearing his mask, it had night vision elements in the visor, and while it wasn’t exactly climate controlled, his Kylo getup did protect from the sun and help regulate his temperature by dissipating excess heat and insulating from cold. May the force be with the inventors of these modern materials, because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have survived the day of walking under the desert sun without them.

Sleeping out on the sand seemed like a bad idea. There were creatures out here that didn’t seem friendly, and he was even more wary about the idea of a local finding him while he was vulnerable. But there was plenty of debris, he kept walking, tired or not, until he came upon something suitable. It was, or rather had been, a TIE fighter once upon a time. It had been practically hollowed out, scavengers long since gutting it for anything of value. But the frame was intact, albeit tired and weathered. He climbed in, sitting hunched against the curved wall so he could mostly stretch his legs out.

Pulling off his mask, he snorted, this was not going to be the most comfortable night. But it seemed fairly secure, he’d make do.

Opening his bag, he pulled out the now half empty bottle of water and allowed himself to take one swig off of it. The low throbbing headache warned him he was dehydrated, but he did his best to ignore it. When he got to Niima tomorrow he’d have to find or buy water or he was going to be in a world of hurt.

_Water and a droid,_ he chuckled to himself as he curled up to fit into the small space of his shelter, _my kingdom for water and a droid._

Oh hell, maybe he was even worse off than he thought if he was finding that thought funny. He probably should have listened to Poe and taken both bottles of water.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, eventually falling in a fitful sleep full of uneasy dreams. In the morning he’d try to remember the dreams, but as he would grasp at it the memory of them slipped through his fingers like water. All that he would recall was the feeling of overwhelming loneliness and the image of a metal wall with hashmarks scratched into it. Rows and rows of them, line after line, filling the space from floor to ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm pretty sure Ben/Kylo and Rey are on a pretty solid collision course to intersect in Niima next chapter.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for the comments :). I'm paranoid about my writing so you all let me know I'm doing all right here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The junk boss tensed, eyes narrowing, “A-a droid? Are you First Order?”
> 
> He looked up slowly, tilting his head slightly as he studied the crolute. This was a bad sign. Was the First Order aware Poe had given the map to the droid? Were they looking for him too? His nerves spiked, but the vocoder thankfully hid the tension from his voice, “It’s a BB unit, orange and white, have you seen it?”
> 
> The fat hands gripped the counter tighter as the crolute’s eyes darted down to the comlink again. If the First Order had a bounty out on the droid, then the ugly brute was probably trying to determine if he was First Order or someone after the bounty. His irritation and ire rose, and he allowed himself to reach out with the force to squeeze ever so slightly around the boss’ neck, feeling flickers of very unjedi-like satisfaction as the crolute’s eyes widened in horror, “ Have you seen the droid? ” He emphasized every word, each one sounding more sinister coming through his mask.
> 
> “I.. yes, yes. It was here earlier, with a girl,” the crolute babbled.
> 
> A girl?
> 
> “WHAT GIRL?” he tightened the force grip ever so slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be one of my late night unedited specials. LOL, hopefully there aren't too many typos or any places where it becomes incoherent.

In the morning she strapped the little droid-- BB-8 he called himself-- into her cargo net and took him into Niima. He was an oddball, and talkative despite clearly having a protection protocol in place around why he’d been out wandering in the middle of the badlands. What she could tell was that he was waiting for someone, someone he wasn’t sure was going to come.

“Don't give up. He still might show up. Whoever it is you're waiting for,” she opened the cargo net to let the droid fall to the ground. “I know all about waiting.”

BB-8 rolled next to her, beeping curiously, drawing another smile from her. He was ridiculously inquisitive for a droid, so she paused, looking at him earnestly, “For my family.” Her smile faded, despite her attempts to force it. “They’ll be back, one day.” She nodded over her shoulder, wondering if she’d be able to get the droid to part ways with her, wondering if it would be so bad if he didn’t. A little annoying, but good company, she liked him, and trusted him, “Come on.”

She knew it was a bad idea to get attached, though, she reminded herself as she made her way to Plutt’s concession stand and waited in line. Eventually whoever he was waiting for would come and she’d end up missing him. And if he stayed he’d probably end up being more trouble than he was worth, the last thing she wanted or needed was a droid.

Handing over five parts to Plutt, she waited as the ugly blobfish acted as if he was studying them, his eyes darting up now and again to leer at her or squint at BB-8. Finally he set the part in his hand down, speaking imperiously, “These five pieces are worth…” he paused, as if he was pondering what he was going to offer still, “...one half portion.” His fat hand slammed the half portion down on the counter.

A half portion?! Her mind reeled and she sputtered, furious and indignant, “Last week they were worth a half portion _each_.”

Plutt’s face never changed, but she was suddenly certain he was quite satisfied with her indignity as he queried her in a nearly bored voice, “What about the droid?”

Blinking a second, she glanced down at BB-8 in confusion before looking back at Plutt, “What about him?”

“I’ll pay for him,” Plutt wheezed, grabbing a pile of portions and heaping them on the counter. “Sixty portions.” Stunned murmurs broke out from a few onlookers and other scavengers in line to trade.

Her mind reeled at the pile of food in front of her and she grabbed at it impulsively. This much food would last her a long time, give her some time to get projects done, maybe even give her some free time. A whirring noise broke her away from her thoughts and as she looked down at the little droid he whirred his head and beeped at her worriedly.

_...amount of coin they were offering for that droid…_

It was like yesterday, as if she was hearing Plutt’s thoughts. And there was more this time, emotion too, the thought was dripping with satisfaction and greed. She straightened, pulling herself away from the pile of portions and instead, reached for the single half portion he’d offered her for her parts, “Actually,” she slid the half portion off the counter, taking a step back, “the droid’s not for sale.”

Plutt stared at her incredulously, and as she turned and walked away, she was sure she could feel his anger welling into fury. It made her hurry, increasing her pace as much she could without it looking like she was running, BB-8 following on her heels.

 

* * *

 

Niima was about as much of a dump as he expected.

It was a congregation of tents and ramshackle structures built with scavenged scrap. Ugly, and not just aesthetically, the force here pooled and rippled with a murky ill-content. Desperation, resentfulness, malice predominated the energy. It wasn’t just the town that was ugly, it was also the people, the woeful impoverished and the parasites that exploited them.

He hated it. It made the very air seem oppressive and heavy, as if the weight of all that negative energy had invaded the very atmosphere over this place. People here could not be trusted, he’d need to be wary. It made him glad he had decided to keep his mask on.

That debate had waged in his head as he approached the town. He could have, and probably should have, pulled off some of the Kylo Ren gear and stowed it in his bag, walked into town as Ben Organa. BB-8, if he was here, wouldn’t trust him if he couldn’t recognize him. Kylo was always best kept to shadows, to quick uses where there would be few survivors, to keep the mystery and enigma, and to minimize the chance of dots being connected by people he didn’t want to do so.

But while Ben Organa commanded respect, Kylo Ren commanded fear, and even before he reached Niima he’d been very sure the people there would give in much better to fear. Respect would be in short supply, but people would cow to their fear. So he’d opted to keep himself masked, keep himself behind the persona of Kylo Ren, and now as he walked through Niima, weak with dehydration, he was glad for it. People gave him looks and scurried out of his way, making it easier to get to the junk boss’ building in the center of the town. As he approached the building, a heavily armored and secured structure that looked like it had started it’s life as a cargo crawler, the line of scavengers waiting to trade their finds saw him and parted, gathering up their scrap and deciding they had better places to be right now.

The junk boss was a burly crolute who watched him approach with growing apprehension.

“C-can I help you?” the crolute said in a wavery, wheezy voice. From the moment he spoke he knew he didn’t like him, not that he had really expected to. This creature made his wealth exploiting the less fortunate around him, and he had no issue causing suffering in order to pad his own coffers.

With the prolonged silence, the junk boss shifted nervously, and he noticed him casting a glance down at an old comlink on the counter next to him. It was probably not a good idea to keep stretching this out, as much as he found himself liking seeing the brute squirm.

“I think you can,” he answered, finally. The junk boss nearly jumped out of his skin at the modulated voice through the mask’s vocoder. “Purified water and information. I suspect you are willing to sell both.”

The crolute’s eyes darted nervously a moment, “I… yes… water, I have water. Information, it depends on what you’re looking for.” The junk boss straightened, trying to look commanding and less like he’d like to be anywhere else right now, “If you have something to trade, of course…”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a peggat, the sun glinting off the gold. Hutt currency seemed a good bet for being accepted here. He dropped it onto the counter, and the crolute’s eyes jumped to it greedily. “Would that cover six liters of water?”

Judging from the way the crolute’s eyes bugged, he was overpaying significantly, not that he could really find it in himself to care. As thirsty as he was right now, he’d be willing to pay a dozen peggats for a single liter.

“S-six? Yes, that should _just_ cover six.” He rolled his eye at the lie as the junk boss turned, gathering six bottles and setting them on the counter.

Keeping his motions slow, not trying to look too eager as he grabbed the bottles and put them in his bag, “I’m looking for a droid,” he began, “I’ll pay for any information on it’s whereabouts.”

The junk boss tensed, eyes narrowing, “A-a droid? Are you First Order?”

He looked up slowly, tilting his head slightly as he studied the crolute. This was a bad sign. Was the First Order aware Poe had given the map to the droid? Were they looking for him too? His nerves spiked, but the vocoder thankfully hid the tension from his voice, “It’s a BB unit, orange and white, have you seen it?”

The fat hands gripped the counter tighter as the crolute’s eyes darted down to the comlink again. If the First Order had a bounty out on the droid, then the ugly brute was probably trying to determine if he was First Order or someone after the bounty. His irritation and ire rose, and he allowed himself to reach out with the force to squeeze ever so slightly around the boss’ neck, feeling flickers of very unjedi-like satisfaction as the crolute’s eyes widened in horror, “ _Have you seen the droid?_ ” He emphasized every word, each one sounding more sinister coming through his mask.

“I.. yes, yes. It was here earlier, with a girl,” the crolute babbled.

A girl?

“WHAT GIRL?” he tightened the force grip ever so slightly.

The junk boss practically blubbered, “No one, just one of the scavenger--- probably just stumbled across it. I sent some of my men to retrieve it from her.”

His eyes narrowed, great, some random girl was now in danger both from this oaf in front of him and from the First Order. Nothing like having more innocents dragged into this. Raising his hand up, he decided he didn’t have time to keep playing nice. Plunging into the crolute’s mind, he ripped through the creature’s mind, finding the recent memory of the girl with a brutal efficiency. With it came associated memories and thoughts, a byproduct of the extraction, and his skin crawled at some of the more vile thoughts this--- thing--- had about her.

On impulse he grabbed his saber and ignited it, the crackling red seemed to match the red haze sparking across his brain. The anger whispering that parasites and predators like this one should be destroyed before they could hurt more people. He lifted the saber up threateningly.

The crolute was on his knees behind the counter. Around them people were watching from what they felt was a safe distance, likely drawn from the brute’s screams at the mind invasion. The scruitinty brought him back to himself, and he exhaled a long breath before slashing downward with the saber, cutting through the security bars and smashing the spitting blade through the junk boss’ comlink.

The boss stared up at him, eyes wide with panicked horror. Behind the mask he smirked as he disengaged the saber and holstered it back on his belt. Hopefully that would prevent the boss from contacting and warning whatever thugs he’d sent after this girl and the droid.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another peggat, dropping it with a clang onto the scorched metal of the counter, “Thank you for the information.” Without another word, he turned and headed the way he’d seen the girl go in the memory, sending the onlookers scurrying to give him wide berth as he passed.

 

* * *

 

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

BB-8 whirred and beeped apprehensively and she stopped, glancing around to make sure no one was around. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked down at the little astromech, “Either you tell me or you go. I think someone might have a bounty on you, and I need to know why.”

He let out a slightly alarmed, questioning beep and she sighed, of course he’d want to know what made her think that. She crouched down to be at the little guy’s level, using the few seconds to try to think of how to explain without saying something as crazy as the fact that she seemed to be reading minds. Simple, she should just keep it simple, “Plutt offering that much for you was crazy…” she smiled, “don’t get me wrong, you’re a nice little droid, but sixty portions?” BB-8 beeped and she laughed, “You’re welcome, but it’s not like you’re mine to sell anyway.” Pausing and pursing her lips she shook her head, “If Plutt was willing to offer me that, someone else is offering a _lot_ more for you. Who? Why would someone be after you? Someone with a lot of coin at their disposal.”

There was a long pause, and then the droid began to talk at a frantic pace, too frantic, she only caught bits and pieces of the binary. “Slow down! I can’t keep up… yes I’ve heard of the First Order. They’re horrible, rumors are going around that they destroyed the village near Kelvin Ravine…” she blinked as he cut in with a series of beeps, “Wait, you’re telling me you were there?”

Oh hell, what had she gotten herself into? If the First Order was after this droid…

A gruff voice barked at her in teedospeak, and she looked up to see two of Plutt’s thugs walking towards her. Despite the makeshift masks they wore over their faces, she recognized them both. _Everyone_ knew who they were. It wasn’t like covering your face was going to change your body shape or mannerisms of very distinct voice. Any time she had to deal with them it was tempting to call them by their names just to see what they would do.

“Plutt wants droid,” the first one, Snoga, spoke gruffly in teedospeak. “We take droid.”

She stood, standing in front of BB-8 to face Snoga, watching the other, Rell, warily from the corner of her eye as he circled to the side of her, “The droid is mine. I didn’t sell it. Plutt knows this.”

Rell laughed, “Yes, he knows. Didn’t sell, so he take. Female does not interfere.” She spun as the thug threw a bag over the droid.

Oh, the female sure as hell was going to interfere. With a quick movement she landed a kick on Rell’s chest, knocking him away from the now covered and frantically beeping droid. Snoga came at her from behind, grabbing her and dragging into the air. She kicked, landing several good knocks against Snoga’s legs and getting a few satisfying grunts of pain but no loosening on the tight grip of the arms. Sinking her teeth into his wrist, however, worked wonders, and the he let go with an angry growl. She spun, unslinging her quarterstaff from her back and attacking back. As she clobbered Snoga upside his hooded head, Rell launched at her, and she turned before Snoga had even hit the ground, unconscious, to lay into Rell with an equal fury.

When Rell was incapacitated, she took a step back, starting to turn back to the slightly panicking droid whirring itself into a tangle in the sack over it. But before she could she felt a presence behind her and she turned sharply prepared to face another of Plutt’s thugs, raising her staff up in defense.

Her eyes widened at the man--- at least she thought it was a man--- who stopped a short distance away.

He might be masked, but this was _not_ one of Plutt’s thugs.

 

* * *

 

The girl spun on her heels as he approached, eyes going wide with fear.

He had been coming over to help, witnessing the two masked thugs attempting to take the droid and attacking her when she tried to stop them. It became obvious really quickly that his help wasn’t needed. She’d fought back like a feral animal, with her feet and teeth, until she was able to get free and unleash what he could only have described as an epic ass kicking with the staff she was now holding defensively in front of her.

She was a tough little thing. He stood his ground, tilting down to scan her down from her head to her feet, and then back up again. There was something, something he couldn’t quite place about her, a feeling, an instinct maybe. Cocking his head slightly, “You must be the girl I heard so much about?”

Tension increased at the modulated voice, the humor he’d spoken with lost as his voice was rendered through the vocoder. Her eyes narrowed in confusion and her hands tightened their grip on the staff. Raising his hands up, palms out, he gave a small shake to his head, “I’m not here to fight.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” she countered, watching him warily as she took a step back towards BB-8.

Lowering himself in a crouch, hoping that would make him less threatening, he watched her as she continued to back over to the droid, removing one hand from her staff to reach behind her and try to untangle the astromech from the sack the thugs had thrown over it. “I can’t.”

“Oh, why is that?” she pulled blindly at the rough cloth covering the droid, not willing to break her gaze from him.

He tilted his head, deciding to keep things honest and simple, “I’m here for the droid.”

Her eyes flashed, “He doesn’t belong to you!”

“Oh?” he laughed, unable to help himself but regretting it once he did. It was a cruel sound barking through the vocoder and the girl flinched. “How do you know that for sure?”

She stood angrily, giving up on trying to release the droid as she once again raised her staff threateningly, “I think he would have mentioned if his master was a creature in a mask!”

Creature? That seemed a little over the top. Sparing a quick glance around and reaching out with the force to make sure there was no one around, he slowly reached his hands up to hook into the release mechanisms of his mask and pulling it off in one smooth motion.

The girl looked satisfyingly startled by that unexpected move. He set the mask down between his knees, as she scanned him up and down once, confused.

“I’m not his master,” he nodded towards the droid, “but he knows me. I’m a friend.” Raising his voice, “Right Beebs?”

BB-8 halted his panicked beeps, still under the cloth covering him before giving an excited squeal of recognition. The girl glanced between him and the droid, before lowering her staff and dropping to her knee, untangling him from the sack.  Beebs gave another series of excited beeps as he was uncovered, spinning excitedly in a circle before racing over to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rapped his knuckles on the astromech’s head, “good to see you too.” BB-8 beeped again and he shook his head, “He was roughed up pretty good but should be okay. An extraction team should have got him by now.”

Whispery threads of the force brushed against his mind and he slammed his walls up, looking up sharply at the girl who was watching the two of them curiously. Had she just done that?

“His master?” she asked, and it took him a second to register what she asked. Slowly standing, tucking the mask under his arm, he nodded, “Yeah, he was in no shape to come with, as much as his stubborn ass wanted to.” She nodded, frowning slightly, and he felt it again, a slight tickle against his shields.

She didn’t even know she was doing it, did she? He glanced her up and down again, other than his mother, he hadn’t run into another force sensitive since the academy was destroyed. Not that he’d been looking. With Luke gone he hadn’t been about to try to rebuild what was lost.

The corners of her lips tipped downward and he realized his growing apprehension was showing in his face. She would be in danger, even if her force ability remained unknown to anyone else. There was no doubt the junk boss would point her out to the First Order and they’d want to question her about the droid. Interrogate and then dispose. She was worth nothing to them, there would be no reason for them to spare her.

Unless her force sensitivity was discovered, in which case Snoke might take an interest.

Her frown deepened, and he realized he’d been toying his bottom lip with his teeth. Releasing it, he took a small step towards her, “I’m being rude, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Ben.”

Slinging her staff over her shoulder, she crossed her arms in front of her, scanning him again as she seemed to wage an internal debate with herself before sighing, “I’m Rey.”

Rey. He kind of liked the sound of that. Simple, rolled easily off the tongue. He smiled, “Nice to meet you Rey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we got Ben and Rey together, now let's see what happens, lol.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments. You all give me energy and life. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We should get someplace out of sight.”
> 
> She frowned as he took a step forward, resisting the urge to take a matching step back. He was much bigger than her, and with him looming over her it was hard not to find him threatening. And while it was clear BB-8 knew and trusted him, she was especially wary of someone who went around wearing a mask and distorting their voice. “What do you mean, we ?”
> 
> “The standard definition is a plural of ‘I’,so this this case that would mean you, me, and the droid.”
> 
> “I know what the word we means,” she snapped. His lips twitched in amusement and she had to fight the urge to punch him in that large nose of his. “Clearly BB-8 knows you and believes you will take him to his master,” she ignored a lonely pang that hit her has she said it, she’d miss that little droid. Gods, she was being ridiculous, becoming attached to a droid she knew less than a day. “So I’m glad this worked out for him and I think it’s time we parted ways.”
> 
> He took another step forward, “Please. It’s not safe in the open.” She craned her neck up to look at him, “We need help, BB-8 and I. I crashed my ship and the First Order is going to be looking for this droid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooph, sorry for the delay between updates. Work has been crazy and I, like the moron I am, now have five works in progress.

“We should get someplace out of sight.”

She frowned as he took a step forward, resisting the urge to take a matching step back. He was much bigger than her, and with him looming over her it was hard not to find him threatening. And while it was clear BB-8 knew and trusted him, she was especially wary of someone who went around wearing a _mask_ and distorting their voice. “What do you mean, _we_?”

“The standard definition is a plural of ‘I’,so this this case that would mean you, me, and the droid.”

“I know what the word we means,” she snapped. His lips twitched in amusement and she had to fight the urge to punch him in that large nose of his. “Clearly BB-8 knows you and believes you will take him to his master,” she ignored a lonely pang that hit her has she said it, she’d miss that little droid. Gods, she was being ridiculous, becoming attached to a droid she knew less than a day. “So I’m glad this worked out for him and I think it’s time _we_ parted ways.”

He took another step forward, “Please. It’s not safe in the open.” She craned her neck up to look at him, “We need help, BB-8 and I. I crashed my ship and the First Order is going to be looking for this droid.”

She took a step back, “I’m not a part of this,” she said, voice weary. “He said he’s on a secret mission…” she nodded down at the little droid. Ben stayed silent, seeming almost to be studying her. “What’s so important about a random BB unit that the First Order would be hunting him?”

Ben raised his eyebrows at her, “Someplace out of sight?”

Irritation grew, “If I’m not mistaken, you were just trying to ask for me help?”

He bobbed his head back and forth a few times, seeming to be thinking about it before looking straight into her eyes, “Yes.”

She let an incredulous huff, this man was grating on her nerves, “Perhaps you should tell me at least an inkling of what’s going on?”

“If we can get someplace out of sight…”

“If you want my _help_. Tell me!”

He pulled back a step, drawing in a breath and sighing it out as he seemed to look at her in a strangely calculating way, “He has a map that may lead to Luke Skywalker.”

Luke… Skywalker?

Luke _Skywalker_??

_Luke Skywalker???_

“Sky... “ her mind tried to wrap around this. Skywalker? The Jedi? “Luke Skywalker? I thought he was a myth.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t quite read, sighing and shaking his head, “Luke? No, Luke is very real. Now, out of sight? Please?”

Holding a breath for a moment, she nodded. Out of sight, didn’t mean she was agreeing to anything yet. Just willing to listen to what he had to say. She nodded over her shoulder, “Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t much, but the tent on edge of town was enclosed, unlike most of the others, which were open air with just a cloth roof for shade. At least it kept them out of sight, and other than heading back across the badlands to her home, it was the best she could do.

There was makeshift table in the corner, Ben walked over and threw his bag on it, setting that ridiculous mask down and pulling off his gloves.

“So you’re Resistance?” she asked, trying to break the silence.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, “Kind of.”

“Kind of? What does that mea---” her eyes widened as he undid his belt, dropping it on the table before he pulled the padded vest over his head. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He pulled off his tunic, leaving him in just the arm guards and an undershirt. It clung tightly to his upper body, showing off well defined muscles. She looked away, feeling a flush growing on her cheeks.

“It means I work with them on occasion,” he glanced at her as he pulled off the arm guards, giving a small smirk as he noticed how flustered she seemed. He pulled a robe of brown cloth out of the bag, giving it a shake before throwing it on. “But I’m not Resistance per say… I’m outside of any of their command structures.”

“I never met a Resistance fighter, or I guess someone who works with them before.”

He raked a hand through his hair--- his really shiny, fluffy hair, looking at her with amusement as he pulled something metal out of the bag. He dropped it on the table and grabbed what looked like a larger, cruder version that was attached to his belt, shoving that one into the bag before he began to pack the pile of clothes on top. He shoved the mask in last. She was kind of glad to see it go out of sight, it was creepy.

“Well, we come in all shapes and sizes,” he threw the bag over his shoulder and picked up the metal cylinder on the table. She narrowed her eyes at it. It looked like a weapon.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” he dropped it into a pocket of his robe. Considering all he’d done was pull off some layers and throw a robe on instead, it somehow managed to transform him. He looked completely different, and far less threatening than he had before. It made her feel more emboldened to challenge him.

“If you really want my help, maybe you should stop be an evasive scabwit about everything?” she glared, “Or I can take my leave now?”

“Does that mean you will help?” he smirked slightly, taking a step towards her.

“I didn’t agree to anything. I’m not sure if I’m going to agree to anything.”

His eyes suddenly seemed to trace down from her head to her toes, then back up again, before he grinned, biting his lower lip slightly, “I like you.”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care if---”

“It’s a lightsaber.”

Wait, what? “A what?”

“The weapon. It’s a lightsaber.”

She looked at him in disbelief and he rolled his eyes, pulling it out of his pocket again. A yellow beam burst from the tip and she jumped, taking several steps backwards in surprise. He gave her a smug, cocky smile and twirled it nimbly before thumbing it off and dropping it in his pocket, “Satisfied?”

“Where… why…” she breathed out the words before staring at the man in front of her.

_Luke? No, Luke is very real._

She took another wary step backwards, “You’re Jedi?”

 

* * *

 

“You’re Jedi?”

He sighed, that was kind of a loaded question, “Kind of?”

“Are you going to answer all my questions about you with ‘kind of’?” she snapped, exasperated. He tried not to laugh. As it was he’d already been teasing her a bit too much. She was fiery and fun to see get irritated, but he really needed to be careful, for her sake and his, that he didn’t piss her off enough that she was going to storm away.

“If that’s the only real answer. I’ve had some Jedi training, before the new order fell.”

“You’re a Jedi and you need _my_ help?” she stared at him, incredulous.

“Like I said, I’m only kind of Jedi. And even Luke Skywalker couldn't teleport himself and a droid back to the Resistance base. I need to get off this planet, either by contacting the Resistance or getting on a ship, can you help me?” He was playing his cards very close to his vest here. If he tried to tell her that she was in danger, he had a feeling that she’s immediately bawk. But she seemed like the type that would begrudgingly help others, after all, she’d went out of her way to help and protect a stray droid.

“What do you want me to do? Help you _steal_ a ship?”

“That would work,” he gave her what he hoped was one of his more charming smiles.

If it was, she wasn’t letting herself be charmed, she took a step away from him, “I’m not a thief.”

“Okay, how about you help me borrow one without asking for permission?” He filled the gap of her last step back by stepping forward again, “Get me and Beebs---” BB-8 gave an annoyed beep, she broke eye contact for a moment to frown at the little droid before her attention focused back on him, “get us back to our base and then you can return the ship for us...” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two peggats, “I’ll compensate you.”

Her eyes fixed on the gold in his hands, her mouth opening slightly before snapping shut, “I…”

“Please?”

Rey bit her bottom lip. The money was tempting, but the please was what was pushing her over the edge, he could tell. She sighed, “Fine. But I can’t be gone long, I’ll drop you at Ponemah Terminal.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got a bustling schedule,” he said, dryly. “Sorry if I’m imposing on it.”

She looked up sharply to meet his eyes, her own blazing. They were hazel he noticed, brown cut with a pretty shade of green. “As a requirement of this _deal_ , you need to quit being an _intolerable_ ass.”

He grinned, enjoying the banter a bit more than he should be, given the circumstances, “Fine.”

“There’s a quad jumper parked outside of town. It’s not much but it’ll get us to Ponemah,” she turned, leaving the tent and leading the way between rows of market stalls. He followed a step to behind, with BB-8 following on his heels. Close enough that when he slowed down his heel clipped the droid’s round body.

“Watch it, Beebs,” he cast an annoyed glance back at the droid.

“He doesn’t like you calling him that,” Rey glanced over her shoulder at him.

“I’m aware,” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes, looking down at the droid, “Just ignore him. Apparently he likes being an ass for no particular reason.”

BB-8 let out a whistling beep of agreement and darted past him to roll next to Rey, the droid’s head spinning to look at him as it went by. He shook his head, “I’m going to tell Poe you were cheating on him.”

He thought he might have heard the girl huff in annoyance.

A chill suddenly raced through him, gooseflesh forming on his arms despite the heat of the desert day. Something was wrong, very wrong. He took two giant steps forward and grabbed Rey by her shoulder, ignoring the undignified squawk she gave as he pulled her back against him.

“ **_What the he---_ ** ”

“ _SHHHHHHH!_ ” he shushed her vehemently, holding her with a rough grip.

“....copy that…” a voice came from around the next corner. A voice that was clearly coming through the speaker of a stormtrooper’s helmet.

He pushed the girl back as he stepped past her, to peer around the corner, keeping himself as hidden as he could by the tent next to him. To his annoyance, Rey stepped next to him, peering around him, and then BB-8 rolled next to her, his head darting forward on his body with a whir as he looked around Rey.

A pair of stormtroopers stood a short distance away. They were talking to the masked thugs that had tried to attack the girl and the droid and gotten their asses handed to them for it. One of them looked up as the thug gestured in their general direction, and the trooper stiffened as he spotted what must of been a comical trio of cascading heads peering around the corner.

He grabbed Rey’s shoulder and shoved her around, “ _RUN! NOW._ ”

“Stop pushing me,” she snapped as she bolted, BB-8 in her heels and himself following behind. Blaster fire erupted around them and he turned, skidding to a halt while he pulled his saber from his robe pocket, igniting it and blocking the blaster bolts before raising his hand up and sending the two troopers flying backwards. When he turned back around, Rey had stopped, and was staring back at him with her mouth hanging open in amazement.

He ran forward, snagging her hand and dragging her with him, “I said to run!”

She jerked her hand from his, “I’m perfectly capable of running without you _holding my hand_.” With that little bit of snark she surged forward to lead again, towards the ship they were going to steal, he hoped.

A familiar sound filled his ears and he glanced back of his shoulder to see a pair of TIE fighters approaching fast. Rey glanced back, eyes widening as the fighters swooped lower, he ran harder, catching up to her and wrapping his arm around her back.

“ _What are you doin---_ ” she screeched, her words cut off as the TIE’s opened fire, the final blast hitting the ground behind them and sending them all flying. He curled himself around the girl, shielding her as best he could as they tumbled through the air, landing hard on the ground. Debris and sand rained down on them, and he focused the force around them like a shield to protect them. He might of had gotten some water into himself, but he was still drained and dehydrated and the effort was exhausting. As the air cleared he let go, let the shield dissipate, sitting up with a groan.

“Are you okay?” he asked the girl as she pushed herself up to a crouch.

She blinked at him, looking almost confused by the question, before nodding, “Yeah…” She extended her hand, “Come on.”

He grabbed it, letting her help pull him to his feet. The TIE’s were still in the air, and she took off running. In the distance he saw the bulky shape of a quad jumper, their destination he assumed. As they reached the open space beyond town, he caught sight of something in his peripheral vision and skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief. “WAIT!”

Rey stopped, spinning, “What are you doing? We need to get to that quad jumper!”

Raising his hand, he pointed at the ship sitting half covered with a tarp, his mind still not entirely believing what he was seeing. The next time he saw his dad he was going to give him major druk for this. “That ship! We’re taking that ship.”

The girl looked at him like he was insane, “ _That_ ship? That ship’s garbage!”

He didn’t bother to answer as he ran towards the ship. Glancing back, he was worried a moment that Rey was going to refuse to follow him, but then the TIE fighters swooped back for a new pass, firing on the quad jumper they’d been originally headed for and blasting it to bits in an impressive fireball.

Rey stumbled back and turned, following after him, “The garbage will do!”

They rushed up the ramp, BB-8 following behind them, and Rey pointed towards the quad gun pit, “Gunner position…”

“Is down there, I know,” he was already climbing down, realizing he’d never even asked her if she could fly, “Have you ever flown this thing?”

She didn’t look back at him as she hurried to the cockpit, “No. This ship hasn’t flown in years.”

When the hell did his dad lose her? He wondered as dropped down into the gunner’s chair, remembering the few times he’d sat in it as a kid. “I can do this… I’ve done this before…” he muttered to himself.

The ship began to take off, listing hard to the side as it rose unevenly, scraping the ground before righting itself.

Kriff, he hoped _she_ could do this. The ship righted but then veered again rattling with impact as the struck something, and then finally rose in altitude, stabilizing and flying straight. He exhaled the breath he was holding and spun the gunner’s chair, crossing his fingers the girl could manage this and he could remember how to shoot this thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this is my strongest chapter. We're really following TFA closely right now and I'm hoping for a pivot or two were we deviate a bit before coming back. Ben and Rey are fun to write together though ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to have to lose them,” he said, and for a split second she just felt frozen in place and in over her head. Then she squeezed the yoke tighter, refusing to give up. A fallen star destroyer loomed ahead, a wreck she’d scavenged through more than once. The hull was fairly gutted…
> 
> The ship rattled as it took another hit.
> 
> “Get ready!” she yelled.
> 
> “Get ready for what?” Ben’s voice echoed back to her. She didn’t bother to answer as she made a hard one eighty and flew straight into the wreck of the Destroyer.
> 
> “ARE YOU KRIFFING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”
> 
> She weaved through the debris, muttering to herself, “shut up, Ben.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't proof read this and do any editing cause it's midnight and I really should be in bed. I'll probably do some ninja edits tomorrow when I read through it and find all the terrible grammar and typos.
> 
> Anyway, you've been warned.

She let out the breath she was holding as she got the ship stabilized. The tiny bit of relief she had felt vanished as the TIE fighters that were in pursuit opened fire. A bolt grazed the ship and she shuddered as the ship rocked. She wasn’t sure she trusted this piece of junk to not fall apart even without it getting blasted.

“Stay low!” Ben’s voice echoed up to her.

Wait, what? Why? “Stay low?!”

“Kriffs their tracking!”

“BB-8, hold on, I’m going low!” She held her breath again as she dove the ship down, skimming it between dunes. The TIE’s dropped down onto their tail and she winced as they took another hit. Somewhere behind her there was a loud, metallic thunk as BB-8 got knocked around

“Are the shields up?!” Ben shouted up from the gunner position, sounding annoyed.

No, they weren’t. It’s not like she had time to get them up and how the kriff was she supposed to reach to get them on from the pilot’s seat. Gritting her teeth, annoyed at him for being annoyed with her, she strained across the cockpit, trying to reach the switches to turn on the shields, “You know it’s not so easy without a copilot!” As she flipped the switches the ship took a direct hit, shuddering much less as the shields took the impact. They got them up just in time.

“Are you going actually fire at anything?” she shouted back at Ben.

“Keep her level and maybe I’ll get a chance,” he snapped, agitated.

She huffed, he was kind of an asshole. How the hell did she get herself caught up in this mess? Holding the ship as level as she could she zigged and zagged, making them a harder target for the pursuing TIEs. As she did, Ben opened fire, _finally_ , causing the TIE’s to lose ground as the dodged.

“We could use some cover!” he shouted.

They were nearing the graveyard… the wreckage should provide them some cover. She glanced over her shoulder, “We’re about to get some!” Looking ahead, she muttered under her breath, “I hope.”

 

* * *

 

“We’re about to get some!”

He snorted out a laugh as he spun and fired another volley at the pursuing TIEs. Thank you for going _there_ , brain. Because it wasn’t like this situation was too serious for seeing suggestive, juvenile humor when you take that sentence out of context.

The ship dove down, weaving between the old wrecks scattered across the sand. So far the girl was flying pretty well, if you overlooked the takeoff, anyway. Tracking the TIEs, he spun back and forth before finally getting a lock from the targeting computer. Thumbing the trigger he grinned as he landed a direct hit on one of the TIEs, blowing off a wing and sending it barrel rolling into the side of a wreck.

“Nice shot!” Rey’s voice called, and he smirked, yes, yes it was. A very nice shot, thank you. He wasn’t too bad at this.

Gloating is never a good idea. The universe doesn’t like it when you get smug, which is probably why it decided at that moment the remaining TIE was going to manage to get a shot on the quad gun. It dropped down to forward position and refused to move.

Kriff it, “The gun’s jammed in forward position, you’re going to have to lose them,” he yelled up to the girl before resuming swearing under his breath.

 

* * *

 

“You’re going to have to lose them,” he said, and for a split second she just felt frozen in place and in over her head. Then she squeezed the yoke tighter, refusing to give up. A fallen star destroyer loomed ahead, a wreck she’d scavenged through more than once. The hull was fairly gutted…

The ship rattled as it took another hit.

“Get ready!” she yelled.

“Get ready for what?” Ben’s voice echoed back to her. She didn’t bother to answer as she made a hard one eighty and flew straight into the wreck of the Destroyer.

“ARE YOU KRIFFING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

She weaved through the debris, muttering to herself, “shut up, Ben.” The TIE was still on their tail, dodging the debris and keeping pace as they began to rapidly run out of room. Grabbing the yoke tightly, she veered the ship in a hard right turn through the gaping hole she knew was in the wreck down on the far end. As they emerged she flipped the ship upside down cutting the engines.

The TIE fighter emerged straight into the line of fire of the quad gun. Ben must of seen the opportunity because a split second later he opened fire and the fighter exploded. Revving the engines and gunning the thrusters, she righted the ship and climbed steeply, aiming to get out of Jakku’s atmosphere as fast as they could.

Pivoting the chair she jumped to her feet, ready to run out towards the gunner position, but the sound of rapid footfalls clanging up the ladder from the gunner position let her know Ben was already heading her way. He burst into the cockpit, grinning at her, “Nice flying…”

It was impossible not to grin back. The words “Nice shooting” started to form on her tongue, but before she could speak he spoke again, “...if you ignore the take off.”

The grin fell off her face and she stared, exasperated, as he pushed past her and collapsed into the the copilot’s chair. Without saying anything, he began to tap a message into the com. She folded her arms, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Can you answer anything without being a smartass?” she snapped. “Who are you sending that com to?”

He glanced at her, “This ship was stolen.”

“Yeah, we just stole it,” she quipped, sarcastically.

Ben chuckled, “I mean it had been stolen before that. Do you have any idea what ship this is?”

She had no idea what he was getting at, “I know it’s an old piece of junk that we’re lucky didn’t fall apart on us.”

“While I can’t debate that point,” Ben snorted as he finished with whatever he was sending over the com, “she’s a very special piece of junk. And that was a message to her rightful owner.”

Rightful owner? She felt a growing sense of panic… this was Plutt’s ship. He was going to be pissed enough that they’d taken it. If she didn’t bring it back…

“No, no, no… you…” she took a step towards Ben, pointing a finger, “you said I’d be able to return whatever ship we took once I dropped you off.”

He turned looking at her seriously, “We are returning it, to its owner.”

“That…” she sputtered, “that is bantha druk.” Oh, she should have known better than to trust him. “I should of known better than to trust someone who hides behind a kriffing mask.”

Ben shook his head, looking irritated, “Only occasionally.”

“Excuse me?”

“I only wear the mask occasionally,” he clarified. “Which reminds me---Beebs!”

A series of annoyed beeps responded as BB-8 rolled into the cockpit and she folded her arms, “He doesn’t like you calling him that!” She closed her eyes a moment, taking a deep breath, “Look, this is Plutt’s ship. I’m going to be in enough trouble that we took it even if I bring it back, if I don’t---”

Ben didn’t even bother to glance her way, instead focusing on the droid. “Security protocol Nine Eighty Seven Nine Six…”

The droid let out a long beep, clearly an indicator that he was being put in a special mode, “What are you doing to hi---”

“All data in regards to my finding you in Niima is put under security encryption, unlockable only by my passcode. If asked you’ll only say I found you in Niima, you will not give any further details. Acknowledge?”

Another long beep. She sat down in the pilot’s chair sideways, eyes darting suspiciously between Ben and BB-8. Why make that information secret?

“Good, protocol end.”

The droid whirred, shaking his head before beeping cheerfully as if nothing had just happened. Ben smiled, “Thanks bud, we’re more or less done, but I need you to power down for the next ten minutes.”

She frowned as the droid shut itself off, her nerves jittering. Why would he turn the droid off? Glancing towards the cockpit door, she wondered if she should get up and position herself so he couldn’t cut her off if she tried to run.

“Oh, for kriff’s sake, quit looking for possible escape routes, I’m not going to hurt you,” he looked at her, annoyed. “I just want to talk.”

“About?” she folded her arms across her chest protectively.

“The mask, I need you to keep that between you and me,” Ben leaned forward, arms dangling over his knees, suddenly looking vulnerable and insecure. “It… um… people, they don’t know and I need to keep it that way. Just do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone.”

Letting out a huff, she looked away, “You’re screwing me over but want me to do you a favor?”

“I’m not screwing you over,” he sat back, looking irritated.

“Plutt’s going to kill me,” the tiniest bit of fear creeped into her voice. If she was lucky he would _just_ kill her.

“Then don’t go back,” he seemed to be trying to not look at her.

“I _have_ to get back.”

“The junkboss is the least of your worries if you go back,” he glanced sideways at her. “You became a First Order target the moment you were seen in Niima with Beebs.”

She blinked, suddenly feeling as if she had a weight on her chest and she couldn’t quite get enough air. “But… it’s… it’s not like I _know_ anything.”

Ben turned his head to look at her, his expression almost--- pitying--- and she clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms as he spoke, “Rey, that’s not going to matter. You’ll be taken and interrogated, and once they’re sure you can give them nothing of value…” His voice trailed off.

_and that’s if she’s lucky and they don’t figure out..._ the words floated through her mind along with a wave of anxiety and a mixture of other emotions that she realized wasn’t coming from her. Ben’s eyes widened suddenly in surprise and it was like a door slammed shut, the alien emotions were gone.

How?

Hell, did it matter? “What are you worried they’ll figure out?” She breathed out a shaky breath.

He frowned, shaking his head ever so slightly, “ _That._ Do you know what you just did?”

Shaking her head slightly, “I… it was like I heard your thought… which is crazy but…”

“Has it happened before?”

Her eyes fluttered closed, “Once or twice… I’ve felt so strange the last few days, like there’s electricity running through me, sparking and spitting.”

The feeling of a hand on top of hers had her snap her eyes open, to find herself staring into the depths of Ben’s brown eyes.

_Don’t be afraid, I feel it too._

 

* * *

 

“General Hux,” a nervous voice spoke.

He stopped pacing the bridge and turned his attention towards the speaker, “Lieutenant.”

“The droid, sir, we…” Mitaka took a shaky breath, “I regret to inform you we failed in acquiring the droid on Jakku.”

His face remained expressionless, but his hands closed into tight fists and his jaw tightened ever so slightly. That droid was his last hope of turning this clusterkriff of a failure into something that at least achieved _something_.

“It escaped on an old Corellian YT model freighter.”

“The droid was capable of stealing a freighter? On its own? Is that what you’re telling me, Lieutenant?” he took a step towards the young officer, eyes glittering dangerously.

“N-no, sir, it had help,” Mitaka continued. He drew a breath, waiting for what he knew was coming, “Ben Organa was with it.”

His teeth grinded together. Organa. Since the bastard had escaped it seemed like every failure, every disaster, had the son of a bitch’s fingerprints all over it. Ben Organa was quickly becoming his personal demon, there haunting him and making his life miserable.

And it all could have been stopped if Snoke had allowed him to kill the man before he became such a threat to them. If only…

A snarl ripped through his throat and he turned, kicking a mouse droid that was passing by hard, sending it flying into the wall, bits of it shattering off. The droid let out a loud, drawn out boop as it powered down.

He took a step back and hissed, hopping on one foot. That had been a bad idea, he thought he might have broke his foot. “Anything else?” he hissed at Mitaka, hobbling towards a chair.

Mitaka moved his mouth a few times before he seemed to find the strength to speak, “The two were accompanied by a girl.”

Dropping into the chair, he looked up and growled, “What girl?!”

“A local. One of the local scavengers, we think. We’re still gathering information.”

Rubbing his face, he pondered this. Probably a nobody, someone Organa latched on to for help getting off the planet. Still, for someone like Organa, anyone with him was a weakness. Even if it wasn’t possible to catch Organa himself, the idea of the bastard getting to watch his innocent little helper’s head blown off was a very satisfying thought.

He sighed, best not to get impulsive, if they were off Jakku and jumped to hyperspace already, this entire operation was dead and done.

“Sir?”

He glanced away from Mitaka to where the com officer was monitoring all transmissions. “Yes?”

She looked at him, “We’ve intercepted a com transmission that came from this system. Very old encryption, likely fed through an old corellian encryption chip.”

Correllian… and Organa escaped on an old Corellian freighter.

Getting gingerly to his feet, he hobbled over to lean over the com officer, “Can you decrypt it?”

The officer nodded, and text wrote out across the screen.

  * _D-_  
_Your lost bird is flying again_  
_Near Jakku, could use some help_  
_Come find us_  
_-B_



He stared down at it for a second before straightening, “They’re still here.” Slowly a dark smile crossed his face, “Send the fighters out, that ship is still in this system and I want it found.”

Around him people began to scramble, following his commands. He turned and limped towards the center of the bridge, watching as the TIE fighters streamed out and began to scatter outward in a search pattern.

Organa was still here. The droid was still here. They still had chance to catch the rabid dog and put him in chains. He’d prefer to put a blaster bolt through the man’s head, but Snoke’s orders regarding Organa remained very clear.

But maybe he’d be able to execute Organa’s little local helper. Blow her head off right in front of the man.

Well, he could dream, anyway. For now he’d focus on finding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this chapter really was fighting me until towards the end. But I got it done, so hopefully moving on things will go a little smoother.
> 
> Next few chapters should get a little bit interesting.
> 
> Thank you to all the wonderful comments you've been leaving. I'm really bad about replying back an I apologize. Please know that a) you all give me life and energy, b) you are wonderful people and I love you, and c) I read all of your comments. 
> 
> PS- Someone asked about why I went with Organa instead of Solo. Since Ben's last name wasn't really confirmed in canon until TLJ, I tended to bounce around with it a bit since there was no reason to assume he didn't use his mother's name. After all the Organa name is royalty and Leia might have wanted it to live on.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I hope this concept works. 
> 
> This will probably be a bit like Snare in that it's taking place over the same time as the events in TFA, so it'll be a flip script, where I change this one piece and then see what else shifts in relation to that.
> 
> *blows a kiss* Comments are appreciated.


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